Home and Hearts Aflame
by Kadi219
Summary: Raydor/Flynn - A missing persons case draws Sharon to her hometown. While trying to solve the disappearance of her nephew's girlfriend and find a way to prove his innocence she has to maneuver her way through old family dramas. In the meantime, she has a new love, a new son, and a new darkness lurking in the shadows.
1. Chapter 1

**Home and Hearts Aflame**

**by Kadi  
Rated: T**

**Disclaimer: **I do love this sandbox, but sadly it is not mine.

**A/N:** As always, special thanks to **deenikn8** for the beta. Any mistakes are all mine. As to the rest of this, and the crazy ideas floating around in my head... You can all thank **kate04us** &amp; **lontanissima** for this. They left me unsupervised, and without someone to rein in the ideas before they could begin flowing onto paper.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

Small towns, it didn't matter where they were located, most of them looked exactly the same. Narrow paved roads, old brick storefronts, and town squares with brick paved lanes. Redmond, Oregon was no different than hundreds of other small towns. It was surrounded by a mix of small redwoods and sage brush, one of the high desert communities located at the center of the state, and nestled in along the eastern border of the Cascade Mountain range.

It was a beautiful place; the vista surrounding it was breathtaking. It was hard to imagine that it only played host to just shy of thirty thousand residents. It was large, by small town rules, but in comparison to Los Angeles, it was practically tiny.

Andy Flynn couldn't imagine growing up there, but that was exactly what he had been trying to do since the moment he learned that it was the birthplace of the indomitable Sharon Raydor.

When she told him that she was from Oregon, and that her father was a retired judge, Andy always envisioned Portland. The truth was, they rarely talked about their pasts. She mentioned her family in passing, in that way that people their age did when they shared funny stories about their youths. It wasn't as if he'd given her a rundown of the geography of his childhood. She knew that he was from New Jersey.

Andy knew more about her life _after_ leaving Oregon, if he was honest about it. She had gone to school at Berkley, and that was where she met Jack. Los Angeles was never part of her plan, but it was where she ended up after graduation, and after marrying Jack. He had gone to Law School while she went to the academy. The rest was a matter of history.

Driving through the small town of Redmond, he had to grin. He was still trying to imagine the woman that he knew growing up on those small streets. She enjoyed shopping and theater, trendy restaurants, museums, art galleries, and shopping in organic whole food markets. He wasn't seeing a whole lot of that in Redmond. Of course, to be fair, she was also just as at home in a pair of old jeans and a comfortable t-shirt. She liked her share of baseball and brewed beer on tap. She liked quiet evenings at home and spoke fondly of camping trips when her kids were younger and still living at home.

Andy checked the GPS that had come with is rental as he made the turn that would take him to the outskirts of the town. Sharon's parents actually had a place just outside of town. She had a few days on him. She had come up earlier in the week, saying only that she needed to go home for a few days and would call him. It was actually Rusty that he got the information from, a couple of days after Sharon left. Ricky had spoken to his brother. As it turned out, one of Sharon's nephews was in some kind of trouble, the one that was the same age as Ricky. Her sister had called, asking for help. She had flown up to see what the issue was, and Ricky had joined her. Rusty had classes and couldn't tag along, not that he'd had opportunity to meet most of the rest of Sharon's family.

Her nephew, Daniel, was being investigated in the disappearance of his girlfriend. Ricky only passed on the most basic details to Rusty. His cousin had taken his girlfriend, Denise, hiking and camping along the base of the mountain a few miles west of Redmond. Daniel admitted to having gotten into an argument with his girlfriend. He said that she had gone for a walk to cool off, and never returned. State police and rangers were still combing the area, looking for the girl, but the more time that passed, the more they began to believe that she would not be found. There were a few other pieces of evidence too, things that made the county sheriff's department believe that Daniel might have had something to do with Denise's disappearance.

Sharon's father was a retired judge. Her sister was an interior designer. Of Sharon's brothers, one of them had a ranch while the other was a lawyer, but his speciality was civil matters, real estate mainly. Her father and brother might have experience with the law, but on the investigative side of things, they were out of their depth. Her family had called on her to help, although well out of her jurisdiction, all she could really do was offer advice and play liaison between the family and the police.

By the time Rusty told him and Provenza what was really going on in Redmond, Major Crimes was in the middle of a case of their own. Andy had to wait until it was over before he could get on a plane and fly north. Provenza was covering for him, although his partner had groused about the whole thing. He put in for sick days, which they both knew would get him a lot farther than vacation days, although Flynn had plenty of those too. Reminding the other man that he'd probably do the same thing for Patrice was going a long way toward keeping his partner out of his relationship. Andy didn't think he had ever been so happy about Provenza dating before.

As he drove beyond the city limits, Andy began paying less attention to his GPS and more attention to the directions that Ricky had given him. Sharon didn't exactly know that he was coming. He spoke to her the previous evening, but she was pensive, distracted. It was just what he expected, after hearing what she was doing there. She was upset, and she was worried.

"_I want to believe him_," She said, while they talked on the phone. "_I look at Danny and I see the little boy who spent summers at my house. I see the kid I taught how to ski. When he tells me that he didn__'__t do anything, I want to believe him, Andy. But every instinct that I have is telling me that something is very wrong here. We__'__re not going to find that girl alive, and Danny knows more about it than he__'__s telling any of us.__" _She sighed then, and sounded a bit mournful when she added, "_As much as I want to sit him down and make him tell me what happened, I know that I__'__m not objective. I__'__m going to have to, sooner rather than later, I just know that when it happens, I__'__m going to have to cross a line. I__'__ll have to make a choice.__" _

He was worried about her, so Andy called Ricky. He wanted to know how she was, _really_, and what he could do to help. He knew that if he asked Sharon, she wouldn't let him _do_ anything, not really. She would try to assure him that everything was okay, and then she would promise to speak to him again very soon. Just as she had done the last time he asked if he could do anything to help with her current situation.

She could be the most frustratingly stubborn woman on the planet. Damned if he didn't love her anyway.

Sharon was good at taking care of herself. It was something that she was accustomed to. Experience taught her to be self sufficient. Being in a relationship where she didn't _have_ to be the only strong or dependable one was something that she was still getting used to. Actually, they were both still getting used to the idea of being in a relationship period. They had both been alone for a long time. He had dated, but not seriously, and there hadn't been anyone since he started spending more time with Sharon.

This was all new for him, too. Not just being in the relationship, but being someone that could be counted on, depended on, while in a relationship. He wanted her to feel like she could lean on him. That was probably going to take some time. They were both damaged. Their pasts had shaped them. What allowed them to fit so well together also had the potential to break them apart. They were working on it, however. It was important enough to them to try. They mattered.

It was why he got on a plane and flew north, to Oregon, to be with her. It was an awful situation. She was trapped between her job and her family. Andy knew that she could use the backup, and they had always worked better as a team. He could simply be there for her, or if she needed him to be the bad guy, well, he could do that too.

Andy pushed those thoughts aside as the road opened up before him, widening into a two lane highway. He glanced at his notes from Ricky again, and squinted behind his shades as he watched the passing landmarks. Ricky told him to go a mile out of town. There was a roadside cafe, and he would take a left there. Andy found it, fairly easily, and pulled onto yet another two lane highway. He was supposed to follow this one for a few miles. He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel as more signs of town life fell away, and the countryside opened up. It was a pretty place, greener than the desert landscape that surrounded Los Angeles. There were trees, and sagebrush, and fields of hay. Andy chuckled again, he couldn't wait to tease her about being a _country girl_.

A few minutes and a few miles later Andy pulled off the road and onto a narrow, paved lane. He followed it as it wound back, away from the road, and through a cluster of trees. After not even a mile, it opened into a circular drive that was covered in peat gravel. It crunched beneath the wheels of his rental. Andy pulled the SUV to a stop and leaned forward to gaze at the house in front him through the front windshield. It was a blend of wood and stone, in a log cabin style, but larger, much larger than any cabin. It was a rambling two story structure, and he could see, to one end, where it had been added onto over time.

There was a garage, separate from the house, but attached by a small covered walkway. Behind the house he could make out what looked like other structures, barns and what he believed might actually be a stable. Andy was reminded that her brother owned the ranch now, but it had come to him from their father. _Country girl_, yeah, she was definitely getting teased about that. Andy shook his head and pushed out of the rental. He stood beside the SUV for a moment, just allowing his legs to stretch, they were still stiff from the flight up on the small passenger plane. He slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans and got a better look at the house.

The opening front door drew his attention. Andy smiled at the sight of a familiar figure stepping out onto the wooden porch that wrapped around the west side of the house, toward the back. He moved around the hood of the rental and walked toward her. He slipped off his shades as he got closer, tucked them into the front pocket of his shirt. A dark blazer and a crisp, white button down shielded him from the cooler temperatures. He definitely wasn't in LA anymore. It was late spring, but still the temperature was trending toward the lower 60s.

"Hey." Andy came to a stop at the base of the porch. He shrugged. "I heard you could use a hand. Sounds like homicide detectives might be hard to come by up here."

Ricky had come clean just a couple of hours ago. Her son admitted to having waited until he knew Andy was in the air to tell her about the little plot that they hatched together. Sharon shook her head at him. She couldn't fight the smile that curved her lips. "I should send you home." She pulled the light, tan cardigan that she was wearing more firmly around her and moved down the steps of the porch. She stopped on the last one and stood looking down at him. "I seem to recall telling you that I was fine."

Even in her jeans and a sweater, with a pair of comfortable riding boots adorning her feet, she was still lovely. Andy reached up and lay a hand against her waist. "I know you did." He moved closer, let his arm slide around her. "I believe you. Doesn't mean you don't need an extra pair of hands. You know, it might not hurt to have another set of eyes look at everything. Besides," one corner of his mouth quirked toward a crooked grin. "I've been doing this longer. You're still on a learning curve."

"Oh am I?" Her eyes lit with amusement. She arched a brow at him. Sharon shook her head and leaned forward. Her arms moved around his neck, and she melted into his embrace. "I'm glad that you're here," she said quietly. "Even if you are being unbelievably arrogant."

"I'm always arrogant." He held her closer, turned his face into her neck. "It's all part of that charm you love so much." When she shivered against him, Andy moved up onto the porch step with her. His hands slid up her sides, and he dropped a quick, almost chaste kiss to her lips. "It's freezing out here, let's go inside."

Sharon laughed. "You call yourself a Jersey boy?" She slipped her hand into his and drew him with her up the steps and toward the house. "You've been living in LA too long if you think that _this_ is cold." She smirked up at him and leaned into his side.

"Says the woman wearing two sweaters." Andy grinned down at her. Beneath her cardigan she was wearing the form fitting, v-neck red sweater that was one of his favorites. "Maybe we should just agree that we've both gone LA and leave it at that." He gave her hand a squeeze. "Rusty wanted to come, but he had classes and finals are soon."

"I know." She led him into the house. "Thank you for convincing him to stay behind. It was hard enough for me to do it when I flew up here. He wants to help, but he wouldn't be comfortable around so many people he doesn't know. He should stay in LA, concentrate on his studies." There was also the fact that in Los Angeles, Rusty was protected. He just didn't know it. He could refuse police protection, but he couldn't stop his mother from hiring private security. That was something that Sharon had insisted upon. She couldn't be with him every minute, and she would not send him away. Rusty didn't want to live in a prison. Sharon simply could not allow him to be unprotected. She had the locks changed at the condo, and hired a private firm to keep watch on Rusty. When it was all said and done, he may never forgive her, but he would be alive. He would be safe. It was a decision that Sharon could live with. "_He doesn__'__t need to understand. He needs to stay safe._" That was still something that she fully believed in.

"Yeah, that's what I told him." Andy shrugged again. "Plus, you know, the whole situation doesn't sound great. I figured it wouldn't be so wonderful for meeting the rest of your family for the first time. Give the kid a pass this time, you know." It wasn't the only reason she wanted him at home. It just wasn't discussed. Not openly.

"Yes exactly." Sharon smiled warmly up at him. She was more pleased than she could say that he was there. She hadn't liked the idea, but now that he was in front of her, she could feel some of the weight lifting off her shoulders. Sharon reached for his hand again and took a step closer. Her other lifted to smooth down one of the lapels of his jacket. He wasn't wearing a tie. "Come on," she said quietly. "The others are gathered back in the den. We were going over the details of the last search grid. They still haven't found her."

He felt her sigh, the sadness in it, and the worry. His fingers tightened around hers. "Have you been out to the campsite yet?" Andy looked down at her, eyes dark with concern and sympathy.

"Not yet." Sharon shook her head. "I was hoping that Danny would tell me what I needed to know to help him, but he's sticking to his story." She stopped, just shy of the open, double doors that led into the den. Sharon pitched her voice much lower, barely above a whisper. "It doesn't _feel_ right," she said. "I know he's holding something back. If he can really lie that easily, that convincingly, what did he do? Andy, _what did he do_?" She looked away, pain filling her gaze. "I can't find any holes in his story, but he's Danny. I've known that boy since the day that he was born. He and Ricky spent every summer together from the time they were toddlers until they were juniors in high school. I _know_ that he is lying to me. I just can't prove it."

"Hey." Andy pulled her back around to face him. "That doesn't mean he had anything to do with the disappearance. We've had… witnesses lie to us for a hell of a lot less," he said, not wanting to call her nephew a suspect, even if it was accurate. "We'll get it out of him, Sharon. We'll figure it out. With any luck, we'll bring that girl home to her parents." It wasn't likely, at this point, that they would find her alive, but even bringing her home in a body bag was better than her family never knowing. They'd get some closure. It wasn't great, but it was better than nothing. A body was also evidence in itself, and finding one could help to clear her nephew. Or it could damn him. Andy slipped an arm around her waist and drew her closer. "It's a bad situation, but this is what we do, and we're pretty damned good at it." His other hand tipped her chin up. He dropped a kiss to her lips, soft and lingering.

"Hm." She leaned in to him. "If I forget to say it again, or start acting like it doesn't matter, I am really glad that you're here." Her hand settled against his chest. It was a sad smile that she offered him, but the longer she felt as though she were being lied to, the less optimistic she felt about the situation.

"I kinda got that." He grinned as he leaned down to let his lips brush her cheek. "Just say the word," he said quietly, voice rumbling softly in the hall, "and I can get Mike and Julio up here. We'll say they've got the flu. It's the excuse I used. Damned contagious, the flu is."

Her lips pursed. Sharon tipped her head back. Her brows lifted. "That sounds great, except for the part where you would be leaving Detective Sykes and Lieutenant Provenza in charge of the entire division… without supervision."

Andy nodded slowly. "Right. Not one of my better ideas. So, say the word and we can get Mike up here…"

Sharon chuckled quietly as she leaned into him. Her arms circled his middle as she moved into his embrace. "I think we'll just have to see how we manage with just the two of us."

"I don't know." He turned his face into her hair. "I think we do okay."

"Well, you're not exactly asking him to leave." A new voice echoed through the hall. "So I guess that's a good sign." Ricky strolled toward them from the den. "Hey Andy," He held out a hand as he approached. "Glad you could make it. How was the flight?"

"Ricky." Andy kept one arm around Sharon, even as he shook her son's hand. "Not bad. I don't think I've ever been on a plane quite that small, that could still be called a commercial jet, but it was okay." He grinned crookedly. "She's decided I can stay, for the time being. I think she agrees that I'm not completely without some uses."

"_She_ is standing right here." Sharon reached out and gave Ricky's arm a light, playful slap. "And she doesn't appreciate being talked about as if she's not. Especially by you two jokers."

"You know, mom," Ricky shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "The whole talking about yourself in the third person thing, it's a little disturbing. I think it could be a sign of some kind of neurological disorder. Insanity, perhaps." He dodged away from her, grinning when she missed. "Hey, it's not cool to try and abuse your cool, favorite son."

"You're absolutely right." Sharon turned and smiled sweetly at him. "Since Rusty isn't here, I think that he's absolutely safe." She lifted her chin and tugged on Andy's hand, pulling him toward the den.

"Ouch." Ricky shook his head. "Walked right into that one."

"Yeah." Andy smirked at him. "You really did." He slapped the young man's shoulder as they walked past.

It was a little odd, but at her age, as they crossed the threshold into the den, Sharon felt butterflies dancing in her stomach. It had been thirty years since she brought a boy home to meet her family. That meeting hadn't gone very well, and in the end, the entire situation hadn't worked out. Now here she was again, and at well past middle age, she was feeling a little bit like that girl again. Only this time, she knew that the man with her was flawed. He had made mistakes, and he had paid the price for them. He wasn't perfect, not by any means or stretch of the imagination, but she thought maybe, just _maybe_ he was perfect for _her_.

That was all that she really needed to know. It didn't stop the sudden wave of nervous energy that swept over her, however. She felt his hand squeeze hers again, and Sharon stepped further into the room. She was reminded that he was on her side, and that she wasn't facing this group of people _alone_. She wasn't necessarily bringing him to them. They were doing this together. She had, at least, learned her lesson since the last time.

Sharon's gaze swept the room. Her sister and brother-in-law where there, of course, along with Daniel. Then there was her brother, Robert, the lawyer. Michael was the oldest, the one who now owned and managed the family ranch. He wasn't with them today, he'd had other business to take care of… ranch business. Sharon glanced back at Andy and smiled. She turned her hand in his and let their fingers lace together. She gave his arm a gentle tug and pulled him toward the opposite side of the room, near the large stone fireplace.

They'd had other strangers in and out of the house over the course of the last few days, but a new face did not go unnoticed. The conversation in the room dwindled to a stop. All eyes were on the pair as they crossed the room. Richard O'Dwyer sat back in his chair. It was a high-backed leather armchair, positioned close to the fire. His brows drew together. His eyes swept over the man, well dressed, older. The man's eyes were mostly on Sharon, his middle child, his oldest girl. The one who had named her first son for him. Richard arched a brow when he took note of their joined hands. He'd heard the rumors from the kids. That his girl had finally found a reason to divorce the deadbeat she spent so many years married to. More reason than just adopting that boy she had taken in was what they were speculating. From the look of her now, Richard figured they were probably right.

"Sharon." His deep voice rumbled through the room. "Who is this you've brought me now?" Richard let his hands drape against the arms of his chair. He was frustrated at the situation, exasperated by the necessity of it.

He sounded resigned, even a bit short. It was an untenable situation that they were in. Sharon tried not to take it personally. The fact was, her relationship with her father was complicated. It had been since the first time she brought Jack home to meet him. Once again she felt his scrutiny, just as she had hundreds of times over the years. She could feel herself being judged, and in her father's sharp, penetrating gaze, she could see him sizing Andy up. She felt immediately defensive, but pushed it aside. She would not let him belittle Andy, or make less of their relationship. She would not allow him to take away the importance of this gesture, or just how much it meant to her. How much _he_ meant to her.

"Dad." Carefully schooled, so that she sounded casual, Sharon addressed her father. "This is Lieutenant Andy Flynn. He's one of my officers. He was able to find the time to join us. Andy has been doing this a lot longer than I have, and he'll be more objective. He'll be able to look at the situation in a way that I can't, and he'll probably spot things that I've missed." She looked up at him as she spoke, and allowed for a small smile.

"I doubt that." Andy smiled down at her. She had been with them long enough now, and even prior to joining Major Crimes, she was a hell of an investigator. Homicide was different than FID, but the skills were the same. She was good. Damned good. "That's why you're the boss," He reminded her.

Her smile warmed, softened. "In any event," she continued, "Andy has come to help. I think we could use it."

"It also helps that he's mom's boyfriend." Ricky rocked back on his heels with a wide grin. His mother's head whipped around. She glared at him, but he just kept grinning. "What? The handholding definitely gave it away, mom. Unless you're going to tell us that you hold hands with all of your officers."

"Ricky." Sharon sighed. She shook her head at her son. "Try to do something useful and go get Andy's bag out of the car. If you think you can manage it without getting yourself into any more trouble?" She gave him a pointed look. She would be dealing with him later.

"Sharon." Andy touched her arm with his other hand. He had moved behind her. He dropped her hand and settled both of his against her shoulders. "I thought I'd stay in town at the Inn," he said quietly. He hadn't come here to impose on her family. He certainly didn't expect that they would be flaunting their relationship at a time like this.

"Nonsense." She pivoted back a half step to look up at him. "I'm not sending you to a hotel. You can stay here, there's more than enough room."

He had to smile at her tenacity. His hand slid down her arm in a careful caress. "You know, your family might not like the idea," he pointed out in a near whisper. He would like to be nearer to her, but not at the expense of the situation her family was currently caught up in.

"Richard." Richard Senior spoke as he stood. He was closer to ninety than he would have once liked to have admitted, but these days, every passing year was a blessing. He still got around okay most of the time. Today was a good day. His body straightened, back and knees protesting only a marginal amount. His gaze moved from his daughter and her friend to his grandson. "Do as your mother asked. Go and bring the Lieutenant's things inside." He took a step toward them, his girl and this man. "Like my daughter said, there's more than enough room. She can find a place to fit you in." If that happened to be with her, well, she was fifty-five years old, much to old for him to have any say in her personal doings. But then, as Richard remembered it, she didn't much like his having a say at all. The girl would do as she wanted, she always had. He held out a hand, "Richard O'Dwyer," he stated, by way of greeting. "Welcome to Redmond, Lieutenant."

He stepped around Sharon to accept the handshake. "Andy, please." He nodded once. "Thank you, sir."

"I'm sorry, dad." Sharon sighed quietly. She meant to make the introductions. "I'm afraid I got a little distracted." She cast another pointed glare in her son's direction before he could leave the room.

"Oh let the boy alone." Her father waved a hand through the air. "Ricky is just having his fun. He knows not to take it too far." Then he would be dealing with his grandfather.

"I wish I could believe that," Sharon muttered. She knew her son, only too well. She lay a hand against Andy's arm, it stroked slowly down to his wrist. "Andy, this is my mother, Karen," she indicated the older woman that was seated on one end of the sofa. "My sister Evelyn and her husband Jacob are beside her…" She pointed out each of them. Her brother and nephew, and the two officers from the state police that were sticking close to them during the investigation. Or rather, sticking close to Daniel. By the time she had concluded the introductions, Ricky had returned with Andy's bag.

"Sharon," Richard drew her attention back to him. "Take your friend upstairs and get him settled in. Then you can fill him in on what has been happening here. We could use the help," he added.

"I thought I'd take him up to the campsite too," Sharon said, "have a look around. We'll take the jeep. I doubt his rental has four-wheel-drive. While we're at it, I can bring him up to speed."

"Good." Richard nodded. "That's good. We'll keep the others focused on the search."

"Come on." Sharon lay her hand on his arm again and drew Andy with her. They took his bag from Ricky and she led him away from the den. From the main sitting room, a wide, oak staircase took them to the second floor. "I'm tempted," she told him, "to put you in Ricky's room and send him to the Inn." Sharon was smiling as she pushed into a room that had its view at the back of the house. They could see the mountains in the distance through wide, picture windows. "This should suffice."

Andy stepped inside and looked around. There was a bag open on a chair in the corner, and a cardigan tossed across the bench at the foot of the bed. She had brought him to her room. "What will your parents think?" He smirked at her.

"That I'm way too old for them to be telling me who I can and cannot sleep with," she said, chuckling as she moved to lean against the dresser. She waited as he placed his bag on the floor near the closet.

"I object to the word _old_, just for the record." He turned and let his gaze sweep the room. There was a free standing, antique mirror in the corner. On each side of the wide, queen sized bed, there were matching end tables. It was not a girl's room, and he wondered that they had placed her in a guest room. The built in shelving that lined one wall stayed that thought. It was filled with photographs and books. Mementos of a childhood, mixed with the memories of adulthood. Andy moved toward her. He stopped in front of her, let his hands settle loosely at her hips. His thumbs swept beneath her sweater to stroke her sides. "Hi."

"Hi." Her hands slipped up his front, to curl in the lapels of his jacket. She rocked up on the balls of her feet and tipped her face toward him. She kissed his bottom lip, then let her lips slide along the curve of his jaw. Sharon drew a breath as she turned her face into his neck and leaned close. When his arms circled her, she hummed quietly.

"We should go." His hands stroked her back. His lips brushed her ear. As content as he was to hold her, they were there for a reason.

"Yes." Sharon stood in the circle of his arms for just a moment longer. She sighed as she pulled away. She nodded once and turned away from him. "Okay city boy, let's go and see what kind of hiking skills you have."

"Better than my cooking," he drawled, following her.

"Oh honey," she tossed a laughing smile back at him, "anything has to be better than your cooking." The man could burn water. How he managed to survive so long on his own was a mystery to her. She waited for him in the hall, and when he joined her, she slipped her hand into his again. Odd, she had grown up in this house, but she felt more at ease with his presence beside her.

It was one of the things that she had worried about, when she considered becoming involved with him, or anyone after the divorce. Actually it occurred to her before the divorce too, if she was being honest with herself. It was one of the many, complicated reasons that she held on to her marriage for so long. She might not have lived like a nun; she was human and she had needs, after all, but she never allowed herself to become attached, or too emotionally invested in another partner. Sharon worried at losing herself in another relationship, at allowing herself to depend on him _too much_. She had promised herself, long ago, that she would never again allow herself to get swept away on a current of lust and emotion, as she had done with Jack.

She could say that it was different this time around, but that was only just so cliche and ordinary. It _was_ different, however. She was older, and she wasn't allowing her emotions to blind her to the man that she was with. It was comfortable, this relationship that they seemed to have slid into, without intention or much forethought at all. They were friends. Very good friends. Then, without realizing it, they were so much more. It was a current, pulling her along, the progression of this relationship, but it wasn't overpowering. It wasn't threatening to drown or consume her.

That wasn't to say that she didn't love him, or that she didn't want him. She did, to distraction at times. It was only that she was at peace with it all. It wasn't unsettling. She could trust him, and she could rely on him without becoming dependent. Age and experience had taught her how to do that. They didn't need to spend every moment together, and yet being together was so easy, and so wonderful.

It comforted her, knowing that she had him to lean on in moments like this. Being here, in this place, with these memories… it was what she needed most.

**-TBC-**


	2. Chapter 2

**Home and Hearts Aflame**

**by Kadi  
Rated: T**

**Disclaimer: **I do love this sandbox, but sadly it is not mine.

* * *

**Chapter 2**

They took the jeep up the off road, mountain trail. The trail opened into a clearing where those that were hiking or camping on this section of the mountain could park their vehicles. There were other trucks already parked in the clearing. State police and county sheriff's department.

Sharon nodded to the van that was parked to one side of the clearing. "They brought the dogs down from Yakima. The team they were using wasn't having any luck. They've all been trained to search in terrain like this, but the local crew is younger, less experienced. This team arrived this morning. They're combing the area looking for Denise. If she's up here, they'll find her." She spoke quietly as they walked across the clearing and made their way up the hiking trail. "Two of them are cadaver dogs, the other is search and rescue."

It was colder up here, and they had both donned jackets, their comfortable, lightweight LAPD jackets. It would keep them from being mistaken for hikers, but it also helped them to remember what they were there to do. Andy glanced at her. In the tree coverage, he had tucked his shades back into the front pocket of his shirt. In one hand he carried the sat phone that they'd brought with them, since their cell phones wouldn't get reception this far from town and surrounded by so much foliage. "You think she's dead," he stated.

She had filled him in on the drive up. Daniel and his girlfriend had come up over the weekend to camp. The argument took place Saturday evening. On Sunday afternoon, Daniel drove down off the mountain, to where he would have cell phone coverage again and reported Denise missing. He was up front about the fact that they argued. He said that she had gone for a walk to cool off, claiming that she didn't want to be around him for a little while.

As Sharon explained it, search and rescue along with county officers had been dispatched to the location. They searched the campsite and immediate vicinity and could find no sign of foul play. They also found no sign of Denise. Daniel was holding to his story. They fought that night, and his girlfriend walked off. He said that he'd gone looking for her when she didn't come back after an hour. He claimed she was never gone for longer than that. He didn't immediately worry, though. Denise had grown up in nearby Bend, she knew the area, and she knew the mountain trails as well as he did.

When he couldn't find her, Daniel thought that maybe she had walked down the trail until her phone worked, and called someone to come and get her. He had called everyone that they knew, and when they hadn't seen Denise, he called for help.

"It's been three days." Sharon looked up at him, eyes grim. "I think it's very unlikely that we're going to find her alive. Denise is an experienced hiker, she knows the area. If she had gotten lost, which is unlikely, she would have known to stay put. Otherwise, I think it's far more likely that she would have made her way down the mountain to the clearing. If she was injured in some kind of accident…" Sharon trailed off, the rest could go without saying. The nights on the high desert were cold, and up the mountain, they were even colder. According to Daniel she had her jacket on when she walked off, but it would be little help with prolonged exposure, especially if she were injured.

Andy thought about that as they picked their way up the trail. It wasn't just a path. There were rocks and fallen logs to work their way over. Sharon had warned him that the trail wouldn't be easy. This wasn't one of their well kept Los Angeles hiking trails through Griffith park or the hills above the Palisades. He studied the trail as they walked, looking for anything that the state police or searchers might have missed. "What do you think happened," he asked, slanting a look at her from the corner of his eye.

Sharon sighed. It was the question she had been dreading. She knew that it would come eventually. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket and studied the trail at their feet. "That's the question isn't it." She shook her hair back. "I don't know, Andy. I don't want to think that Danny could possibly hurt _anyone_ much less someone that he's claimed to love. But how many times have we heard that? How many times has someone told us that their husband, brother, son, nephew could never possibly hurt another person, only to have us prove otherwise." Her brows drew together in a deep, troubled frown. "I know what Danny is telling us, and I know what my instincts are saying. I know what I want to believe, but none of it is really fitting together." She drew a breath and let it out slowly. "I think something happened on this mountain, and I think we're going to find that girl dead. Danny is lying to me, and until he tells me the truth, I can't help him. But the longer he lies, the worse it looks for him."

"You're handling him like you're his aunt," Andy pointed out. "There's nothing wrong with that. He's family, and this isn't your jurisdiction. The problem is that it doesn't feel right. You've given him the benefit of the doubt and that's not working. Patience can only get you so far." He shrugged. "Maybe it's time to stop being patient. Sooner or later, with the dogs in it, if that girl is here, they're going to find her. Sit him down, treat him like another suspect, make him fill in the blanks. It's the only way that you can really help him right now, Sharon."

"I know." She looked over at him and smiled sadly. "I was just hoping that it wouldn't come to that." She reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "I think I just needed to hear that it was okay. I may be several hundred miles away from my job, but the only way that I can help them right now is by doing my job."

Andy nudged her shoulder with his. "We'll figure it out," he told her. He couldn't promise that they would fix it, or that it would even turn out okay, but they would find a solution.

"Yes." She was just having a hard time imagining anything about the situation turning out well. Sharon smiled at him anyway. "Come on, city boy, pick up the pace. It's not far."

He snorted at her. "Country girl." Andy grinned crookedly, and enjoyed the view as she pushed ahead of him when the trail narrowed. "You know, I just can't wait to tell everyone that our own, power suit wearing Darth Raydor was a living, breathing cowgirl." When she stopped and turned, glare on full force, Andy threw his hands up. "Just kidding. Don't shoot."

She sniffed as she turned. "I'd much rather be in LA, believe me." Sharon preferred the convenience of the city, but there was something peaceful and a little charming about getting outside of it. She liked it here, or at her parents' time share in Park City. She just liked it in limited doses. It was okay for vacationing, but prolonged exposure left her wanting. Although, there was something else about being home that left her a little wanting. She loved her family, but it was again something that she appreciated in small doses. Sharon stopped walking and tossed a look over her shoulder. Just as she expected, his eyes were not directed at the back of her head. She snapped her fingers at him. "Eyes up here, Lieutenant."

"Nope." He grinned. Andy was completely unapologetic about it. "As we've pointed out, we're not in LA. You're rules don't apply here." He took a couple of steps forward and lay his hands on her shoulders. Andy prodded her forward.

"Pity." Sharon smirked as she started walking again. The trail split a few yards later and they took a turn to the left. "Watch your step," she said, as the trail became a little more difficult.

"Now it's a pity," he muttered. Her quiet snort made him shake his head at her.

They walked for another half an hour, with the trail winding its way slowly upward along the mountainside. There was a marker in the form of a strip of yellow police tape tied to a tree where Sharon took him off the trail. He followed her through a cropping of trees and noticed that the state police had marked the path every couple of yards. At the edge of a small clearing, she came to a stop.

"Here," she said quietly. Sharon nodded to the campsite. The tent was still pitched. Two hiking packs rested near its entrance, but it was obvious that they had been gone through. There was a small, stone ringed fire pit at the center of the clearing. Sharon walked around the edge of the site, the diameter of which was only a few yards. She pointed to the markers which had pressed into the ground, like tent spikes. She hadn't been up here, but she had seen the photographs. "They marked Denise's foot steps, leading away from the camp. There was no sign of a struggle here, or along the path her trail takes. These," she pointed to another set of markers, "are Daniel's prints. They're interspersed with hers, like he followed her. That much corroborates his story."

Andy studied the spot. He turned and looked back at the campsite. He walked back through it. From the inside pocket of his blazer, he pulled out the photographs that Sharon had brought with them. Andy looked between those and the site. It hadn't been overly disturbed. Aside from searching the tent and packs for evidence, the police had more or less left it in the same condition as they found it.

He didn't see anything in the photographs that would indicate that the locals had missed anything. Andy tapped them against his leg and turned. He walked past Sharon and followed the marked trail of foot prints. They became harder to spot as they moved deeper into the woods and brush. Andy shook his head when the trail stopped, for Denise at least. Daniel's prints seemed to keep going. Andy knelt beside them. "Was he carrying her maybe?"

"They don't think so." Sharon moved around him. "Come with me." She waited for him to rise and join her. Sharon kept walking. A few yards away, the woods thinned. They stepped out onto a northern facing ridge. "Welcome to the Cascades, Lieutenant."

In the distance he could see other mountain peeks, but stretched out in front of him was the rough terrain, dips and valleys, of the mountain they were standing on. Andy turned where they stood. To each side of them, the terrain looked difficult and dangerous. Behind them, a thick forest of greenery. "That's a lot of wilderness."

"Hm." Sharon nodded. "This way." She turned, and moved off to their left, up the ridge face. She picked her way several yards up the incline and out onto an outcropping. Then she turned again and nodded toward the mountain behind them. They had a slightly better view here. "Denise Matthews is somewhere in all of that."

There were miles of forest spread out along the mountainside. Andy shook his head. "Well, Dorothy, we're not in Griffith Park anymore." This was not canyons and brush with a few sparsely populated groupings of trees.

Sharon's brow arched as she looked at him. "So I'm Dorothy now?" She smiled.

"Don't let it go to your head." Andy cut a look at her. "So our missing girl's trail stops. And we think she's somewhere in all of that," he waved his hand at the greenery in front of them.

"Yes." Sharon pushed her hands into her pockets again. "There are ravines and some steep drops in all of that. Thick brush and fallen trees."

He swore quietly. They would be lucky to find the girl, even a body. Finding any evidence was going to be nearly impossible. Their best bet was getting her nephew to talk. Andy turned where he stood, gazed out over the terrain again. "Okay," he said after a moment. "Let's walk it. I want to see everywhere that Daniel said he went. Then I want to talk to him."

She nodded once and hummed her ascent. Yes, she wanted to speak to him too. Sharon said nothing as she took him back the way that they had come. They stepped back into the trees and followed the path that her nephew claimed to have taken during his search for his missing girlfriend.

They spent two hours up on the mountain. They took photographs of their own, using the small digital camera that Sharon had tucked away in her pocket. They found signs of where the brush had been disturbed, and a few other foot prints. It was nothing overt, and could have been caused by the rescuers and police searching the mountain for Denise Matthews.

It was late afternoon by the time they arrived back at the ranch. The kitchen at the back of the house was airy and warm, and after two hours in a climate that neither were accustomed to, they welcomed that and the hot coffee that Sharon brewed upon their return. She retrieved her laptop from her room and set it up on the oak butcher block breakfast table.

They sat shoulder to shoulder, speaking quietly as they studied the pictures they had taken, alongside those from the state police. Sharon looked up, over the top of the coffee cup that she held cradled in both hands as another entered the kitchen. She had sent word upon their return that she wanted to speak with Daniel. She sat back in her chair as he entered the kitchen, followed by his mother and grandfather. Sharon shifted in her seat, she had not envisioned her father being present for this questioning. Sharon drew her gaze away from them and looked at Andy beside her. She lowered her cup to the table, but kept her hands wrapped around it, enjoying its warmth.

"Thank you for coming, Daniel. Have a seat." She nodded to one of the chairs across from where she and Andy sat. She reached out and closed the laptop as her gaze moved again to her father. "Dad, there's coffee. Can I get you a cup?"

"No," he waved her off and made his way to the counter and the coffee maker. "I know my way around my own kitchen. Go on and let's get your questions out of our way. Sit down Evelyn," He said to his younger daughter, who was standing behind her son. "I doubt this is going to be very pleasant."

Sharon exhaled quietly and leaned forward in her seat. She waited until her sister was seated before she settled her gaze on her nephew. "Daniel, Andy and I went up to look at the campsite this morning. On our way back, we spoke to the deputies and the officers from the state police that are heading the search. There's no evidence that Denise walked down off the mountain. She's up there, somewhere." Sharon held up a hand when it looked as though her sister was going to speak. "Evie, we need to do this."

"Sharon." The younger woman sighed. There were only two years between them. Robert was the youngest. "Daniel has answered all of these questions already. You asked some of them yourself when you got here. What is the point of going over all of it again?"

Rather than watch her sister, Sharon was studying her nephew. He shifted nervously. It was almost imperceptible. If she wasn't watching for it, she knew that she would have missed it. "The point of asking them again, Evie, is that I know Daniel is lying to me." Her brows lifted as she studied the boy, only a few months younger than her own son. "Daniel knows that he's lying to me too, isn't that right?"

"No!" He shook his head at her. He leaned forward, hands pressed against the top of the table. "Aunt Sharon, I swear, I'm not. I didn't hurt Denise. I wouldn't! I don't—"

She held up a hand, cutting him off. Sharon tilted her head at him. "You argued with her," she stated calmly, taking him back to the moments prior to Denise's disappearance. "What was that about?"

"People fight all the time!" Evelyn interrupted again. "My god, Sharon. How many times have you and I argued over the years?" She swept a hand through her hair. "How many times did you fight with Jack? No one ever suggested that you had done anything to him all the times that he disappeared."

"Evelyn." Richard's voice sounded through the room, low, but commanding. He walked over and took a seat at the head of the table. He shook his head at his youngest girl. "Those are not the things that we are here to discuss."

"Evie," Sharon tried to keep the exasperation out of her tone. "I'm doing what you asked me here to do. This is why you wanted me here. Not to run back and forth delivering messages to and from the local police. If you cannot let me do my job, then you will leave the room."

Evelyn opened her mouth to protest, but a glance at her father had her jaw snapping closed. She leaned back in her seat, arms folded across her chest. "Answer the question, Danny."

Andy leaned forward beside Sharon. His hands were clasped together. "You argued with your girlfriend," he said, reiterating the question and giving them someone else to turn their frustration on. "What was the argument about?"

Daniel shrugged. He ran his hand through his hair. "I don't know, normal stuff. I forgot to pack the granola bars, and she was upset because she reminded me three times. I couldn't find my camp skillet and I knew I put it in the truck. We were just arguing. It wasn't about _anything_."

The pair glanced at one another. Sharon folded her arms and leaned forward against them. "So you're telling me," she said carefully, and at length, "that you argued with your girlfriend about inconsequential things such as forgotten granola bars and a missing camp skillet, and that was enough for her to wander away from camp, after nightfall, in terrain that she knew could be dangerous after dark?" Her head inclined again. Sharon's lips pursed. "Danny, I'm not buying that."

"How long was she gone before you decided to go and look for her?" Andy asked. "I mean, you said she had to go and cool off. She must have been pretty pissed off about those granola bars." He chose to ignore the presence of the others in the room, and kept his attention focused on the young man in front of him. Sharon was right, the kid was hiding something.

"Well yeah," Daniel said. "She was pretty moody." He sighed. "She was gone about an hour. I figured she would come right back. I waited for a while, and it was getting late. I thought maybe I should walk down and check the truck, see if I left the skillet in it. When you're hiking in pairs, you don't just take off on your own without telling someone. I didn't want her to come back and not know where I was. When Denise didn't come back, I went looking for her."

"But you didn't find Denise," Andy pointed out. "In your statement, you said you looked all over for her, and couldn't find her. You figured she had hiked down the mountain and called someone to come and get her. But you just said, when you're hiking in pairs, you don't go off without telling someone." Andy pointed at him. "So Denise grew up around here, right? I mean, she must be pretty experienced. Would an experienced hiker just walk off and leave her partner without saying something?"

"I thought she was really pissed." Daniel shifted in his chair. He pushed a hand through his hair again and sighed, frustrated and worried. "When she walked off, Denise said she couldn't stand the thought of being around me right then. So yeah, I thought maybe she left."

Andy looked Sharon beside him. "Must have been some pretty spectacular granola." Sniping at each other, being moody, arguing, it was the sort of thing that occasionally happened in most relationships. They'd even had their moments where they weren't especially wonderful to be around. Those arguments had never escalated to the sort of confrontation that her nephew was attempting to describe. Learning to coexist with someone, whether you lived with them or not, to be part of a partnership was work. Relationships didn't just happen. They were formed. Loving another person was the easy part, holding on to them, and the relationship you had with them, that was the hard part. It was about compromise and communication. A lesson that it had taken his entire life to learn.

"Hm." Sharon returned his look. Her lips remained pursed as her focus shifted back to her nephew. She studied him, the way that he looked between them, and the glances he threw at his mother and grandfather. "I don't buy it." Sharon leaned back in her chair. She crossed her legs and sighed. "People do not walk off into dangerous territory over petty arguments. Like the Lieutenant said, that must have been some amazing granola. I can't see a girl as experienced as I keep hearing Denise is leaving over something like that. Now, if you were telling me that you had eaten the last of her organic greek yogurt without replacing it, I might be willing to buy it." When Andy rolled his eyes toward her in a knowing look, because that was just one such argument that they'd had, she tilted her head at him. "No, wait… I still think storming off is a bit extreme." It could be age, or it could have been experience, but the two of them had ended up laughing over it, especially as they'd rolled about on the sofa, while he tickled her into forgetting to be annoyed at him.

"I don't know." Andy shrugged at her. "They're young, you know? Who knows what kinds of things young people argue about today. Just the other day, Nicole was telling me that Dean makes her crazy. He leaves damp towels laying in the bathroom. She was threatening to throttle him. I can't see her storming off because of it."

"I think that's the part that bothers me the most." Sharon shrugged at him. "It was a completely idiotic argument, but Daniel wants us to believe that his very experienced girlfriend stormed off, into the night, in dangerous terrain, because she couldn't stomach the sight of him anymore. Then he waited an hour, just to make sure she had time to cool off?" She gestured at the lieutenant as she spoke. "None of it really makes sense. Why would he wait until morning to start working his way down the mountain? If, like he said, he really thought that she was upset enough to leave, I can't see it being over something like that. It's petty and immature." Without warning, her gaze moved to her nephew. "Are you petty and immature, Daniel? I don't want to believe that the young man I watched you grow into would be so callous. I can't seem to fathom that the boy who grew up hiking in this countryside would let his girlfriend wander the mountain because of an idiotic argument."

"Aunt Sharon, I didn't—"

The pleading, frustrated tone was too much. Her hand slapped against the table top, making even her father jump. She stood up and leaned over the table. "You are running out of time, Daniel. Do you understand that? Sooner or later they are going to find that body. They are going to pull that girl down off that mountain and we are going to know exactly what happened to her. You are lying to me. We both know that you're lying. This is not you and Ricky sneaking my car out to go joy riding in the middle of the night. No!" When he looked toward his mother, her hand smacked against the table again. "What did you do? What happened on that mountain, Daniel."

"Nothing happened!" He leaned forward, eyes wide and a bit panicked. "I swear, Aunt Sharon. Nothing happened. I didn't do anything! I didn't hurt Denise, I would never do that. I wouldn't hurt anyone. I don't know where she is. Don't you think I want to find her?" He pushed both hands into his hair. "We have to find her! She knows the mountain. Maybe she twisted her ankle, or her knee, or something. She's probably waiting for someone to find her. But I didn't hurt her!"

She wanted to believe that. More than anything she wanted to trust him. She saw in him the little boy that he had once been. The mischievous teenager. She didn't want to think that he'd grown into the kind of man that would harm another human being. "Then I need you to be honest with me," she said carefully, voice dipping low. "What happened on that mountain before Denise left your camp?" Sharon pointed a finger at him. "So help me, if another lie comes out of your mouth, Daniel Campbell, I will put you in handcuffs myself. Start talking."

His eyes swept the table quickly, nervously. Daniel shifted where he sat. His fingers dug at his scalp. He took a thin breath, it shuddered through him. Finally he looked up at his aunt again, still leaning against the table. "Denise is pregnant." He glanced at his mother when she gasped. "We were arguing because I keep asking her to marry me. She doesn't want to get married just because she's pregnant. But the baby might not be mine. We broke up for a little while and she was with someone else…" Daniel swallowed hard, shifted in his seat again. "We don't know if it's mine or not, and I told her it didn't matter. I would marry her anyway, and do the right thing, and apparently that was the wrong thing to say. Denise went off, but she wouldn't let me explain that I was just trying to tell her that I love her and it was okay!" He gestured wildly. "That's it, Aunt Sharon, I swear. I didn't hurt her. God, I couldn't! So yeah, she was mad enough at me to leave."

Sharon sank slowly back into her chair. She heard Andy hiss, and her father swear. Her sister was staring at him, a mix of horror and shock masking her face. She shook her head slowly. "Danny, why didn't you say anything before? Why didn't you tell anyone that Denise is expecting?" It looked bad for him, a possibly unwanted pregnancy could be a motive for murder, especially if the baby wasn't his. Despite that, she believed him. _Now_ she believed what he was telling her.

"She didn't want people to know yet." He slumped in his chair. Daniel shrugged helplessly. He stared at the table in front of him. "If Denise was just missing, I didn't want all that to get around town. Especially the part about it not being mine. I didn't think it would be right, you know?" He shook his head slowly and looked up at his aunt again, eyes wet and miserable. "I'd never hurt her," he whispered.

"I'm not going to lie." Andy sighed. "It looks bad." He looked at Sharon's sister, and then her father. "He's going to need a lawyer. A damned good one." He believed the kid, and with any luck, the evidence would back up his story. "Pregnant girlfriend goes missing," Andy shrugged at them. "We've seen less motive in similar cases. Toss in the rest? Even a half decent prosecutor can sell that as motive."

Daniel leaned forward. He found it suddenly very hard to breathe. He stared at Sharon. "You really think she's dead?"

She nodded quietly. She reached across the table and covered his hands with hers. "It's been three days, honey. I hope that I'm wrong, but yes, I really think that she is." He drew away from her and turned toward his mother, head clasped in his hands, and folded into her embrace. Sharon leaned back again. Her eyes closed. She drew a thin breath and let it out slowly. As the sound of Daniel's misery filled the room, she placed a hand against Andy's shoulder and stood. Her hand moved across his shoulders as she stepped around him and away from the table.

Sharon walked through the double doors that led out onto the porch. The air that greeted her was cool and clean. The first deep breath ached a bit, it usually did until she was used to the temperatures again. She had left the cardigan laying in her room, along with her jacket. Sharon folded her arms around herself and moved to lean against one of the porch posts. It was stone at its base, polished oak from her hip until where it connected with the porch overhang. She leaned her back against it, let her gaze wander across the meadows and hayfields toward the mountains beyond.

It was always difficult, breaking people apart to get to the truth. Harder when it was someone that you knew, and harder still when it was family. It was the job, and it was what they had wanted of her. Her eyes closed again when heard the sound of footfalls across the porch. A small, weak smile touched her lips. "You keep following me around," she said quietly, "people will start to talk."

"It's okay. Your son already outed us. Both of them, actually. We've been outed in two different states. We're practically a felony waiting to happen." Andy moved alongside her. He stood there for a moment. When she shivered, he slid in behind her. He shrugged out of his blazer and settled it around her shoulders. His arms circled her. Andy settled his back against the post and simply held her. "He didn't do it," he said quietly, confirming what he thought they both believed.

"No." She leaned her head back against his shoulder. "I don't think so either. I think it's all just a terrible, horrible accident. It makes it only marginally better, but it's still a terrible tragedy. I want to think that they could still find her alive, but…" Sharon shook her head. "Her chances are fading." Her head rolled against his shoulder, she let her forehead rest against his jaw. "We get tourists up here all the time, during the summer months. They find it so hard to believe that something so beautiful could be so dangerous."

"We could be jaded," Andy said. "We've seen too much. She knows the area. She grew up here. This isn't a tourist lost on the mountain, wandering without a clue. If she's hurt, it's possible she's just waiting for someone to find her."

"It's possible." There was hope, very little, but hope remained. He was right, they could be jaded. They didn't usually encounter happy endings. Very rarely, actually. Their cases almost always involved a dead body and a search for the truth. She settled back in his arms, enjoyed the warmth of them, and then felt a little guilty for that when there was still a girl missing. She sighed quietly. "Andy…" Sharon drew her bottom lip between her teeth. "Would you agree that Daniel is in need of protecting from himself?"

"Yeah." His hands stroked up and down her arms. His lips moved against her hair. "The kid was pretty dumb, but he's young. He panicked. He thought he was doing the right thing, and it wound up being the stupid thing. Now it just looks bad for him."

"More than bad. If this was one of our cases, we'd already have him through booking and sitting in front of Hobbs, listening to a deal." She turned in his arms and looked up at him. "Would you also agree that I am so far out of my jurisdiction as to make it laughable?"

His eyes narrowed. She was up to something. His arms slipped around her. His hands settled against the small of her back. "Yes," he said carefully. "I would agree to that." Andy's brows lifted. "What are you thinking?" He could see the wheels in her head turning. There were moments, like now, when that worried the hell out of him.

She exhaled quietly. "That I'm about to make your head spin." Sharon leaned up and brushed a quick kiss across his lips before stepping out of his embrace.

He watched her walk across the porch. Andy shook his head and pushed away from the porch post to follow her. "Well that was nice, but I wouldn't say it made my head spin…"

Sharon rolled her eyes at him. "Just for that, I'm keeping the jacket." She pushed her arms through the blazer with a smirk.

"It's a little big on you, but if it means that much…" Andy caught the door as she pulled it open. Their banter faded, but his hand settled against her back as they stepped back into the kitchen.

They walked across the kitchen to reclaim their seats at the table. Sharon clasped her hands in front of her. Daniel was still noticeably upset, but it was her father and sister for whom her attention was now focused. "I need you to listen very carefully. What Daniel said today, doesn't leave this kitchen, not until it has to." Realizing she had them now, Sharon leaned forward against the table. "You need to find Daniel a lawyer, but don't retain anyone until a warrant is issued. It may not come to that, but you should be prepared in case it does. We are all still hoping for a good result, that Denise will be found alive, but if she isn't…" Sharon stopped when her nephew shuddered and her father sighed. "If she isn't," she continued, "then you should be ready for what may happen afterward. A coroner will determine that she was pregnant. A DNA test will be done to determine the father, either way, depending on what evidence - if any - that is found at the scene, it could lead the local police to to try an establish motive. They have the burden of proof. It isn't going to _feel_ like that, but that is how it works."

Sharon cast her gaze at Daniel, eyes dark with worry, but unwavering. "They're going to ask you about the pregnancy, they're going to want to know why you didn't reveal it. Tell them what you told me. If, and I do mean this very seriously _if_ they come at you with a warrant, then you hire the lawyer. Until that moment and afterward, do not say anything to them that you do not have to. Do not volunteer any information. Answer their questions as truthfully as you can, but stick to the specifics of the question. If it comes down to hiring a lawyer, you let the lawyer do the talking. Do you understand me?"

Daniel was staring back at her, eyes wide. He nodded quickly. "Yes," he croaked, and then cleared his throat. "Yes, I understand. Aunt Sharon, I really didn't…"

"I know." She relaxed a bit in her chair. "I know, Danny. I would have arrested you myself if I thought otherwise. I think your judgement might have been a little questionable in what you withheld, but I don't think you hurt anyone, honey." Sharon turned her gaze on her father and sister. "What I said to Daniel goes for the rest of the family too. It is important that no one volunteers any information outside the specifics of the incident. Scrutiny can shift in an instant, and if they can't find anything to link Daniel to this, they may try to shift it to someone else in the family. It happens, I've seen it. Overzealous officers wanting an arrest and a conviction so badly that they'll stop at nothing to get it." She glanced to the man at her side. "Present company excluded."

"No." He shrugged. "I've been there. I've done it. You've read me the riot act for it. She's right, it happens, the thing is, less experienced officers will try to come at any chance at a conviction. They won't just bend the rules to prove the guy who did it, really did it." He held up a finger between him and Sharon, "Which is what you've nailed me on."

"Rules are rules," she said with a smile. She lay a hand on his arm and let her fingers slide beneath the cuff of his sleeve.

Andy grunted at her. "Look kid, we believe you, but you might have stacked the cards against yourself. We just think you should be ready, whatever happens. This is what we do, although…" He arched a brow at the woman beside him. "We aren't usually telling people how to slide under the radar of an investigation."

"Hm." Her head inclined. "Yes, but you agreed that I'm outside my jurisdiction. Don't say that I didn't warn you."

"You did," Andy nodded. "Be glad this one is on your side kid, I've gone up against her. She's tough."

"She was always tough," Daniel said quietly.

Richard wasn't sure about all that. He leaned forward where he sat and placed his coffee mug on the table. He remembered his daughter a lot differently. Circumstances made her tough. Things of her own choosing. He studied the pair in front of him. "So what you're telling us is," he began, "we should get ready for the absolute worst. Even though Danny didn't do a damned thing wrong."

"That's right." Sharon returned his gaze. "Hope for the best, but prepare for the worst. Dad, you know how the law works. You have to admit, if Danny had come before you in a courtroom, without you knowing him, and you heard all of this…"

"Yes, yes," He waved a hand and sighed. She was right about that. The boy had messed up, holding on to important details like all that. "I know a couple of guys, good lawyers, damned good. I'll start there, see if either of them is available, but we'll wait."

The judge didn't like waiting. He wanted to act. "It really is the best thing that you can do for now." Sharon leaned back in her seat. "Until Denise is found, all we can do is wait."

The waiting was the hardest part.

**-TBC-**


	3. Chapter 3

**Home and Hearts Aflame**

**by Kadi  
Rated: T**

**Disclaimer: **I do love this sandbox, but sadly it is not mine.

* * *

**Chapter 3**

After dinner Andy found himself once again standing in the den. In LA it would have been much too warm for a fire, but with the setting of the sun, the fireplace was lit. Now a warm fire crackled away, falsely cheerful in spite of the mood in the house. Andy stood in front of a shelf in the corner near the fireplace. He was studying, with some interest, several rows of photographs that were interspersed with ribbons, medals and trophies. He lifted the glass in his hand to his lips and sipped at the water it held.

In several of the photographs she either sat astride a horse with a gleaming bay coat, or she stood beside the animal, but there was no mistaking the young woman in the photos. Even with her hair in a long, thick braid, tossed over one shoulder, the smiling girl in the riding habit to whom the awards belonged was unmistakeable. It was Sharon, and he had to grin. The pictures ranged in age, from early adolescence to late teen. That was his girl, happy and carefree. It was a smile that was reserved for her personal life, but it was one that he recognized. In a few of the photos, she stood with her father. The pair of them were happy, and he saw none of the strain that he was sensing now. None of the strain that he always sensed when Sharon spoke of her father.

"I see you found the Memorial wall." Michael O'Dwyer was the eldest of the four children born to Richard and Karen. He came to stand beside the man that his sister was, apparently, involved with. He had missed the events of their arrival, but had heard enough from Robert, the youngest of them all. "That's our girl, circa about…hmm…" He tilted his head and grinned, a bit of mischief slipping into his expression. "Well, I could say, but she'd hurt me if I start talking years." He leaned against the wall beside the built in shelves and gestured with the hand that held his bourbon and ice. "Dad had her on a horse before she could really walk, well all of us actually. She was the one that took to it. If Sharon didn't have her nose stuck in a book, then we could find her out with the horses. If you get to missing her, that's probably where she'll be, even now." He nodded to a picture on one of the lower shelves and reached out to lift it.

It was Sharon on the back of a large chestnut mare, Emily was seated in front of her, barely three and smiling brightly for the camera. The carefree smile of Sharon's youth was missing, but she was looking down at her daughter, a warmer, more affection look on her face. Andy took it from him and studied it. "When did she stop riding?" He passed the frame back to Michael. "She doesn't in LA, and she's never really mentioned it." He found that curious, especially given it was something that she appeared to love so much.

"No," Michael said. "She probably wouldn't. That visit," he said of the photo as he placed it back on the shelf, "was the first time she had been on a horse in years. It was the first time she had been up here since her junior year at Berkeley. She came up for Eve and Jake's wedding, and to introduce Emily to dad." Michael slanted a look at the other man and shrugged. "I'm just telling you this so that you know all of that tension at dinner wasn't about you." Richard had stared hard at his daughter when Andy turned down wine at dinner. When Karen had insisted, Andy had admitted, quite unapologetically, that he was an alcoholic, almost twenty years sober.

Andy grunted quietly. He shook his head as he turned; he leaned back against the wall on the other side of the shelving unit and let his gaze wander the room. Sharon had taken Ricky out onto the porch to have that chat she promised him earlier. He would think twice before trying to out his mother's secrets again. "Why do I think," he said quietly, "that this is going to be one of those _Ghost of Jack_ conversations?"

"Oh so you've met the loser, good." Michael nodded. "That will save me time." He shook his head. "Sharon brought Jack home to meet the family her junior year. They had been dating for a while, and it was getting pretty serious. You see, dad had big dreams for Sharon. She was the golden girl, the favored child. His little bright and shining star. Oh, he was proud of all of us, it wasn't like anyone felt slighted, but he had big plans for her. She was the only one, of the four of us, that showed any kind of interest or aptitude in following him into law and onto the bench. So when dad found out she was spending her time at Berkeley mooning after some boy, he wasn't altogether pleased about it. Dad didn't like Jack from the start," Michael explained. "He was never going to like any boy that she brought home, that's just a dad thing, but he really didn't like the old boy, and he wasn't far off the mark with that one"

"I can imagine." Andy lifted his water again. He thought about everything he knew about Jack, especially the Jack from years ago and snorted quietly. "I might have had a fit too if I were him. Snake charmer, that's Jack." He found it hard to believe that he had ever liked the guy and chose to blame the fact that he was mostly drunk during those days. After encountering the man now, while he was sober, Andy could see the error of his ways.

"Exactly." Michael sighed. "Sharon didn't want to hear it. Jack was already talking about the pair of them getting married after graduation. Dad wouldn't hear of it. They were too young, she was making a mistake. She could do a hell of a lot better. You have to understand, when Sharon graduated high school, she was at the top of her class. She was doing great at Berkeley, but that last semester before she brought Jack home, her grades had slipped. Nothing serious," Michael scoffed, "the kind of grades I wished that I had been making, hell, the kind of grades I wish my kids made in college now. A's and B's, but it wasn't the 4.0 that he was used seeing from her. Naturally, he blamed it on Jack, and he was probably right. She was going out more and not spending nearly as much time studying. Even mom could understand it. The problem with those two," Michael gestured with his glass, causing the ice to clink, "is that they are so much alike. One thing led to another, and they really had it out over old Jackie boy. Dad refused to send her back to school if she was just going to spend all her time messing around with him, instead of doing what he sent her there to do. Sharon told him she didn't need his blessing, and she didn't need his money. She went back to school with Jack, and she finished that semester. Her senior year, she took out student loans and aid, but it wouldn't cover her dorm. She moved in with Jack."

Andy whistled quietly. That was certainly not a story that he had ever heard, but he knew Sharon's stubborn streak. He especially knew it when she was riled. He could imagine her making a decision and sticking to it. He couldn't imagine her being quite that confrontational with her parents, but they had all been young once. In their early twenties they were all prone to wild ideas and emotions. "Obviously they got married," he pointed out, wanting to prod the story along before Sharon came back and caught them talking about it.

"After graduation." Michael nodded. "We went down for the wedding, even dad. He wouldn't give her his blessing, but he went. Mom wouldn't stand for anything else. They barely spoke the whole time, but she married Jack. After that, dad thought maybe he was too hard on her. She finished school, got into a good law school. Dad was getting ready to offer to pay for the whole thing, that was until he found out that the plan was for them to move to LA so that Jack could go to school and Sharon was going to put it off. He didn't see why she had to do that. So he offered to help them out. Sharon turned him down. When he found out that she joined the force and was going to the academy, he hit the roof. I couldn't really blame him. Her pride wouldn't let her take the money from dad, not after the fight they had, but Jack was going to let his wife take on a dangerous job to pay his way through law school. If we didn't like him before, we _really_ didn't like him after that."

Michael shrugged, he paused in his narrative to take a drink. "When Emily came along, mom went down to see them. Eve went down a few times too during those early years. Robert was off at school, and I was busy with the ranch. We talked, we wrote, she sent pictures of the baby. She wouldn't talk to dad. He wouldn't talk to her. She came up for the wedding, brought the baby, and left Jack at home. Dad fell in love with Emily, and she was besotted with him. She was the first grandbaby. So for the sake of that, Sharon started coming home more often. We all tried to keep our mouths closed on the subject of Jack, especially when he came with her. I don't think they ever fully patched it up, even after Jack left. They're both too stubborn, too proud for that. She wanted him to accept her choices, love her despite them, and he couldn't imagine her living a life that was so ordinary."

"She is anything but ordinary," Andy said, eyes on Sharon as she re-entered the room. He watched her search the room until her gaze fell on him. Her eyes lit and he nodded in response, a small smile tugged at his lips. She started toward them, and his head tilted when he noticed there was a glass in her hand. "Hey you, set Ricky's head back on straight?"

"Hm." She moved into his side, let her arm wind around his waist. "Indeed, he'll think twice about opening his mouth about matters that do not concern him again." She held up the glass in her hand, a small tumbler that held ice, and a pale red liquid. "Found something. Trade with me."

He could trust her, more than anyone else he knew, when it came to his sobriety. Andy took the glass from her, and allowed her to have his water, and watched as she set it aside. He lifted the new glass to his lips and grinned when a familiar scent wafted toward him. "You might just be the perfect woman." He took a drink, let the familiar tang of the cranberry and soda wash over his tongue. His arm moved around her shoulders as he pulled her close.

"Don't tell her that." Michael laughed. "My god, it'll go to her head." He shook his head at the two of them, it was easy to see they were crazy about each other. This relationship was still new, though, and they didn't know this guy. He liked what he had seen of him so far. He wasn't hiding who he was, he had no shame at his past. Not that he would show to them, anyway. He was comfortable talking about it, and Sharon was comfortable hearing it. It was no secret to her, obviously.

"Mmhm." Her eyes narrowed as she studied her brother. She glanced at the shelf behind them. "What have you been telling him?" She stared at Michael, knowing all too well that if any one of her siblings was telling stories, it would be him. Robert always preferred to live in the _now_ and Evelyn was too wrapped up with Daniel at present. Her brows lifted when her brother hid behind his glass and took a drink instead of answering. She sighed. "Michael!" Sharon knew her brother, knew him all too well. There were only thirteen months between them, and she was close to all of her siblings, but the closest to Michael.

"What?" He shrugged at her. "Oh don't be mad Shari." Michael tugged her away from Andy and dropped an arm around her shoulders. "It's not like I told him about the time you went skinny dipping with—"

She turned and smacked his arm, once, twice and then a third time. "I swear you have got the biggest mouth!" Sharon shoved him away from her with a groan. "You could never keep a secret. We could never trust you with anything. Don't touch me." She shoved at him when he reached for her again and tossed her head back. "And don't call me _that!_ I hate that. You know I hate that."

Michael winked at Andy. He reached out and put his glass on one of the shelves. Then he was reaching for his sister again. "Now Shari," he smirked when she bristled. "There's no reason to be hurtful. I was being helpful."

"Really?" She pinched his side. "Like the time you were being helpful by telling dad that Robert was parking with his girlfriend down at the old mill pond? Or how about the time you let it slip to mom that Evie and I cut class to go shopping down in Bend with our friends. Oh! I know, you were just being _helpful_ when you told Jack that I was pregnant with Ricky _before _I could tell him."

He stopped struggling with her and pointed a finger at her. "Hey, you can't blame that one on me. How was I supposed to know you hadn't told the asshole yet? Generally speaking…"

"Oh hush!" She shoved him again. "I will give you that _one _Michael Richard O'Dwyer, but just the one. You have got the biggest mouth this side of California and you know it. I do not appreciate you talking out of turn. If there are things that I want Andy to know, I will tell him." She poked his chest for emphasis.

"You're just bossy." Michael smirked down at her. He looped an arm around her shoulders and dropped her into a head lock. "I think you're forgetting that I'm the oldest, and that you're just a little bit of a thing still. Shari, Shari, Shari…"

"Michael." Karen sighed at the pair of them. "Act like the fifty-six year old man that you are and let your sister up from there. Good heavens. Put you children in a room and it's like having a pair of five year olds again. You lot are worse than the grandchildren."

Evelyn snorted where she sat with her husband. "Yes, now all we're missing is Robert with a feed bucket stuck on his head."

"Or you without your clothes," Robert replied, grinning crookedly.

"You don't want to do that." Andy took a step to one side. He was giving them more room. Strictly speaking, the man might be her brother but he wasn't convinced that he knew what he was doing, or whom he was doing it to. Actually, Andy was beginning to doubt his sanity and intelligence. He took a sip of his drink and shook his head when Michael didn't let go of her.

She had given him thirty seconds, but when Michael had not released her, Sharon sighed. She pressed the heel of her riding boot into his instep and pushed her elbow into his middle. Then she took his hand, while he grunted, and twisted his thumb. As he released her, she moved back and behind him. Sharon pulled his arm up and back, and twisted it behind him. She smirked as he bent. "I'm sorry, Michael, you were saying?"

"You win." He decided that he knew when he was beaten. When she let him go, Michael stepped well away from her. "You are evil and you must be destroyed." He lifted his glass again and moved away from them. "Shari."

Her eyes narrowed. She started toward him but he hastened away, moving to hide behind his wife on the other side of the room. "Coward." Sharon swept a hand over her hair to straighten it. When she turned to Andy, there was a warning look in her eyes. "Do not ever call me that."

He held up a hand. "I value my life." He grinned as he reached for her and pulled back against his side. His arm wrapped around her shoulders, stroked down her back. "Don't worry. Most of what he told me, I already knew," Andy spoke quietly, smiled reassuringly down at her. "The rest, well, we all have things about our families that make us who we are."

Sharon groaned. She pressed her face into his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I'm sure that Michael really did think he was being helpful. He's my brother, and I adore him, but he's a bit of a goofball sometimes." She sighed again. "And I may have to hurt him." Sharon could well imagine what Michael had told Andy for her to get that response. He knew some of her history with Jack, the bare essentials. He didn't know that it had caused a rift with her family for a time. Or that some rifts still existed.

"It's okay." His hand cupped the back of her head, momentarily. Andy dropped a quick kiss into her hair before he drew back. "I'm just glad he wasn't dragging me out back for some kind of macho _what are your intentions_ talk. I haven't done that in too damned long. I'm not sure I remember how it goes."

She laughed quietly. "Oh no, we're beyond that point I think. Well beyond it. One of the advantages of age. At this point in our lives we're spared some very uncomfortable questions."

"Sharon."

That was her father. Her eyes closed. "Other times, we wish that we could be." Sharon looked up at him, she smiled again. "I'll be back. He probably wants to talk about the Daniel situation," she said, sounding resigned. "If I'm not back in ten minutes, I could need rescuing," she muttered as she pulled away from him.

Andy made a show of looking at his watch. "Clock is ticking. I'll do my best." Family dynamics were vast and complicated. He wouldn't pretend to understand hers, not completely, but he could see where the chasm had opened. He could understand where the strain was coming from.

Sharon smiled brightly at him. Her eyes were sparkling happily as she turned. His presence chased away the tension she felt, even as she made that walk across the den to join her father in his study. Warmth filled her, it settled in the fluttering of her heart and spread from there. Their relationship was complicated. They were juggling a lot, their families and their jobs, and of course the pasts which had shaped them. She wondered at times where it was going, this road they were on, but she had also resolved to simply enjoy the journey. She knew that she loved him, and she knew that she wanted him. They were allowing the rest to fall into place as it needed to.

Those were the thoughts on her mind as she stepped into her father's study. She was reminded that other relationships were far more complicated, filled with pitfalls and hurts that could not always be ignored or easily travelled.

She closed the door to the study behind her. As she made the walk across the room, to take a seat in one of the chairs in front of the old, wide oak desk, Sharon reflected that she still felt butterflies dancing in her stomach. It didn't matter how old she got, or how much distance lay between them or even the number of times that they had quarreled over the years. That walk still seemed to take forever.

As she settled in one of the leather chairs in front of his desk, Sharon crossed her legs and folded her hands in her lap. Her chin lifted, but it was as much confidence as it was defiance. "Have we heard anything yet," she asked, "from the teams searching the mountain?"

"No, not yet." Richard was comfortable in his old, wide leather desk chair. He leaned back in it, considered the coffee in his cup. "It's harder at night. More dangerous." All things that he knew that she was already well aware of. "I spoke with the lawyer out of Bend. Good guy, I've known him a while. He agreed with you. We'll talk again later, after the girl is found. If there's anything to talk about."

"Good." She shifted a bit in her seat. Her thumb swept over her other hand. If it bothered her that he felt the need to double check her advice, she buried it. It was something that she was accustomed to. "Like I said earlier, Andy and I tend to think in worst case scenarios. There's still hope for Denise."

"Unlikely," Richard cut her off, waved a hand. "She's been up there too long. The nights are cold. If she was too injured to walk out or get to a spot where she could be found, then I doubt she's going to be found alive. Hell, you grew up here too. You know the odds, Sharon. If she did survive the exposure… there are the animals."

He didn't have to elaborate. Sharon drew a breath and let it out slowly. "Yes." There were wolves, bears, and some large cats. They didn't come near the more populated areas, the well travelled trails. Generally speaking, the hikers and campers were safe, but there was a chance one of the animals that populated the area could have posed a problem for the missing girl. She was reminded again that these were not problems they had to deal with in Los Angeles.

"So he's an alcoholic." Richard got right to it. He didn't really call her in there to talk about Daniel or his missing girlfriend. His eyes narrowed and he studied his daughter. "That a good idea? I thought you had enough of all that."

"Hm." Sharon hummed. She looked away and folded her arms across her chest. "Here we go," she said quietly. "Somehow I knew that you were going to have something to say about that." Sharon returned his gaze. "Dad, I'd really rather not discuss it. Don't you think I'm a little old now for this conversation?" She managed a smile, chose to take the humorous route. She didn't want to quarrel with him, not now with everything else that was going on. "Emphasis on the word _old_."

Richard shook his head at her. "You've had an interesting few years," he told her. "Your mother worries. The situation with that boy hasn't been easy, and now this business with the divorce, and here you are involved with someone else. Someone with a hard history, the kind of history that I would think you'd want to stay away from."

Her mother wasn't worried. Sharon had discussed the topic of Andy with her, at length, and several times over the course of the last few months. Her mother was well aware of how she felt about him. While she had not shared specifics of his past, because it was not her place to do so, she made it clear that she was very vested, emotionally, in the relationship that they were building. She looked down at her hands. Sharon sighed quietly.

"Dad, I appreciate that you're concerned," she said carefully, stamping down on her own frustration, that he was once again questioning her choices. "I know Andy very well. I've known him for a very long time. I knew him when he was drinking. I know the mistakes that he's made, and I've had the unique advantage of being able to watch him rebuild his life. I've seen the lengths that he's gone to to repair the relationships that he ruined. He's worked very hard. He's still working hard at it. He doesn't take his sobriety or his past for granted. He'll never feel as if he's fully made amends for those years." It was worth it enough to him to continue sitting down with his ex-wife and her husband, and the children, in front of a counselor twice a month to discuss lingering issues and questions. "He has been a tremendous help to me with Rusty and his birth mother. He's even been able to sit down with Ricky and help him to see Jack's addiction in a way that I never could." Sharon shrugged. She said more than she intended to. "He's not Jack. I would never dream of comparing them."

Richard considered all of that. He sipped at his coffee. His head inclined. He squinted at her from behind his old reading glasses. She was proud, stubborn. She got that from him, that's what his Karen told him. He supposed that she was right. Sharon would make a decision and stick to it, she would make the best of it, even if it turned out to be wrong. She would do what she could to make it right, but the more that they pushed at her, the farther in she would dig her heels. They learned that when she first got tangled up with that Raydor. "People stay with the familiar," he said. "It becomes comfortable. Even when it's not good, it's what they know, so it's what they do. You married a man that drug you down with him. He made life hard. He came and he went and mostly stayed gone." Richard shrugged. "That's just how it was. You met a boy, that needed a home, and he had a similar experience with his own family. You kept him, made him yours. Now you've got another man, with the same kind of past. It's a recipe for more hard times, more hurt. I would think that, after all that trouble with Jack," he said, waving his hand between them as he spoke, "that you would want to live a different kind of life."

His criticism stung. Sharon looked away from him. Her jaw clenched. She drew a thin breath and tried to hold her tongue. Her hands were clasped tightly together. It was not only her past with Jack that he chose to find issue with. Now it was Rusty. Andy. Sharon shook her head slowly. Her stomach twisted painfully. Her throat ached. It hurt more than the questioning of her choices, this disapproval. Yes, she was used to it. Long used to it by now. There was little that she could pinpoint that she had done, since she met Jack, that had actually made her father proud. He loved Emily and Ricky, and at least with them he had the relationship that they had lost when she married much too young, and too far below her station for his liking. She could deal with that. Jack was a disappointment to her too. Sharon had no illusions about her marriage and how it had turned out. It was that he took something that was such a source of joy for her and wanted to make less of it. Adopting Rusty, making him a member of her family had filled her with such happiness, such absolute joy. To find disapproval in that, in providing that boy with something he needed, with a home, a family, and love, Sharon could not begin to comprehend what else she had done that her father would find fault in _that_.

"I think," she said carefully, voice thick and wavering, "that it is probably best if we do not discuss the choices that I've made for my life any longer. I understand that you do not agree, and I can respect that…" It cost her to say it, but she did. "I've made mistakes. I will not deny that, but I do not believe anything can be gained from continuously rehashing it." She braced her hands against the arms of the chair and levied herself out of it. She stood, back straight in front of him, and looked down at her father from over the rims of her glasses. "On the subject of Rusty, we will never discuss it again. He will, at some point, be meeting the rest of the family. He is my son. As dear to me as Ricky, and that is all that any of you need to know. I will not allow him to be made to feel unwelcome, or less than a person because he does not live up to your lofty expectations."

As she turned away, Richard's brows rose into his hair line. "Now you wait just a minute." He pointed a finger at her. His voice rose, just a fraction, it's deep tones rattled through the room. "No one has said a word about that boy, or his not being welcome in this family. Furthermore, I did not raise you to speak to me in that manner. I'm not one of your officers." His hand smacked against the surface of his desk. "You're going to sit your bottom in that chair and you're going to listen to what I've got to say, for once in your life."

"What's the point?" She turned back to stare at him. Her eyes flashed, anger and defiance. Her chin was set stubbornly. "I've heard it all before dad. I'm making a mistake. He's not right for me. I'm ruining my life. I'm setting the wrong example for my children. There is nothing that you can say now that we haven't already discussed. There is nothing that you can tell me that I haven't already thought." She shook her head at him. "I know that you think that I wasted my life. You think I could have done more, I could have done better. You could be right, but it's done. I can't undo it, and even if I could, I wouldn't. Jack gave me Emily and Ricky, and some really good years. It wasn't all bad. I won't trade that. You think I wasted my education, but I love my job." She placed a hand against her chest. "I have no regrets about the career path that I chose. Given the opportunity, I would choose it again. I'm sorry that it didn't fit your image of the life that I should lead. I'm sorry that you cannot see how happy it's made me. I adore Rusty, and I love Andy, and they make me unspeakably happy too. I'm not giving them up. I'm sorry that displeases you. They're mine, dad. They belong to me. You don't need to like it. I don't need you to agree with it. I don't even need you to be proud of me. Not anymore. _I_ am proud of me."

"You think I haven't been proud of you?" Richard stared hard at her. His eyes glittered with frustration and not a little bit of anger. His girl had a loose tongue when she was riled. He hadn't raised his children to be confrontational with their parents. He shook his head at her, he sighed, disappointed now. "You don't know anything, girl. Too proud. Too stubborn. You can't see beyond the urge to fight." Richard shook his finger at her, he leaned forward, let his elbow rest against his desk. "You stayed with Jack when you should have left, that was your stubborn pride. You were determined to prove yourself right, when you could have walked away and there would have been no shame in it. Yes." He nodded. "Yes, I've been disappointed in you. Yes, I think you wasted your education. You'd have made a hell of a lawyer, a hell of a judge. But you found a job to be proud of. You rose through the ranks, and did well for yourself. There's nothing wrong in that. You married a man that you shouldn't have. You had kids, when you should have waited. You were living life. What I see is someone who made the best out of a bad situation. You made a choice and you stuck by it. You worked at it. Ordinary." Richard said, with some regret. "Your life was ordinary, that's what I thought. I wanted better things for you, but hell, it's no different than you've wanted for your kids." Richard stared hard at her. "It takes more strength of character to build something out of nothing than it takes to abandon it and find something new. Don't stand here and tell me that I haven't been proud of you. I'm a little disappointed in you right now. If your mother could hear you…" He pointed at the chair again. "Now sit down. There are things that I'm going to say and you're going to listen to them."

There were few situations in her life in which she was accustomed to being told what to do. Even fewer where she allowed it, or listened to it. She moved stiffly, but Sharon folded herself back into the chair she previously occupied. She sat straight-backed, hands clasped in her lap. She returned her father's gaze, although her mind was a jumble with his words. This was not the turn these conversations usually took. After a moment, when the ache in her chest and the stinging behind her eyes became too much, she lowered her gaze to her hands. She studied her nails and took a thin, shuddering breath. It rattled through her with the tremor that moved down her spine. She was not blind to the pitfalls of her past, she had lived them. There were moments when she knew that she could have chosen differently and hadn't. The past could not be rewritten. Sharon shook her head. She reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

"You've never said that before." She spoke quietly now. He was always quick to point out her mistakes. Sharon couldn't recall the last time he pointed out something that he thought she had done _right_. Their relationship had been strained for so long that she was left reeling, more for having heard that than if it was only his disappointment that he displayed. What was it, she wondered, about being faced with a parent that could make a person feel like a child again? Here she was, well beyond fifty years old, and yet part of her felt all of twenty again.

"Would you have listened?" Richard sat back in his chair. He placed his coffee on the desk and steepled his fingers together. "You're fast to want to fight." He sighed. "You get defensive, and maybe you've had a reason to. Is this how you handle things in LA?"

She snorted a laugh that was lacking in real mirth. Sharon shook her head. "No." She leaned back in her chair with a sigh. "No it really isn't." There were those in Los Angeles that would call her an emotionless rulebook. She had been called an Ice Queen, and Jack was always very fast to point out how cold he believed she was. She stared at the surface of his desk, the polished oak. She could see the scarring, years worth of use. It wasn't terrible, but it was there. Sharon chewed on the corner of her lip, her mind worked through all that he said. Finally, she lifted her gaze. Her eyes were bright, moist. "The sad thing is, I think I was just angry because I know that I never would have married Jack if we hadn't quarreled over him like we did. At least, it wouldn't have happened that soon. I might have actually gone to law school. Things could have turned out a lot differently," the last was said very quietly as she looked away again. "It's over now. The divorce took care of that. Finally."

"You held onto a marriage that was over before it began," Richard said. "There might have been some mistake in that. You had your reasons. Jack was a mistake." He would never change his opinion on that. "It was your mistake to make. It's hard watching your children get older. That's something I think you've learned. We can't make their choices for them, even when we'd like to. I was disappointed, I _am _disappointed, in how that turned out for you. But I am proud of how you dealt with it." Richard shook his head. "That's the past. There's no changing what has already happened. I'm worried that you're traveling that path again. He's an alcoholic." This was the discussion he wanted to have before their little confrontation. "The boy you adopted, his mother has addiction issues. The kids tell me Jack has been drinking again. Are you sure that the life you want is one that continues to be surrounded by the weaknesses of others?"

"I see it differently." Sharon gestured helplessly. "I think my experience with Jack made me uniquely capable of providing Rusty with the help and the family that he needs. You can't imagine how many people have told me how admirable it is that I've made sacrifices to take him in." Sharon's brows rose, "As though caring for a child that was abandoned, neglected, and abused is some kind of hardship. I think I'd have taken him in anyway, but without the firsthand knowledge that I had dealing with Jack all of those years, I don't think that I could have helped Rusty in quite the same way. I don't think that I could have understood him, or his pain, or the way that he still hopes that his birth mother will one day be someone that he can be proud of. If you knew him…"

"It's not the boy that I'm questioning." Richard leaned forward again. "It's the situation."

"The situation is handled." Sharon tried to offer what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "Rusty's mother is in jail, and she's going to be staying there for at least a few more months. If she fails even a single drug test, then she'll face the full sentence for her crimes. If that is the only way that I can keep her clean, for Rusty's sake, then it's what I'll do. It isn't a hardship dad. You don't need to be worried about me. Rusty isn't blind to his mother's issues. He's hopeful, but he's also very realistic. He's a good boy. I think that you would like him." She shrugged. "We'll never get him near a horse, but you'd like him anyway."

"I'm sure that I will," Richard agreed. "I've heard good things about him. Rick and Emily have both been impressed. Rick speaks fondly. We were worried initially, but the situation turned out alright. You'll have to bring him with you the next time that you visit." This wasn't the right situation for it, but there would be other opportunities in the future.

"I will." Sharon nodded, she smiled. "I've wanted to get him up here for a while. The timing hasn't been right. We'll try again this summer." She was trying to imagine taking Rusty into the mountains, and almost laughed at how she pictured him reacting. She shook her head, pushed away the wistful thoughts. "I don't want to talk about Andy with you. I think we should just agree that on the subject of my choices in partner, we're never going to see eye to eye. I know why you're concerned, but he and Jack couldn't be more different. He's solid, dad. He takes his sobriety very seriously. If he didn't, then I couldn't have him working for me, and I wouldn't be involved with him. More than that… I trust him. At work and at home. I trust him to do what he needs to do to remain sober. I trust him to reach out for help when he needs it, and I know that he does. Because I trust him, and because I _know _that I can _continue_ to trust him, I have been able to allow myself to love him." Sharon paused for a moment and gestured with her hands again. How could she explain it? "I don't know what is going to happen, but…" She struggled, looking for the right words. Finally, she simply shrugged. "He makes me happy." Jack had once made her happy too, but she was young and inexperienced. She hadn't seen the pitfalls that lay before them.

Richard considered that for a moment. He watched them together. There wasn't a lot to see, the exposure was limited. The man had only been in his house for a few hours. He didn't know him, and he didn't know his history. It was a worrisome situation, though, given her past, and his. "What I wanted to tell you was that… Jack was a smooth talker. He was quick to charm, quick to laugh at a joke. He was quick to run when the situation got tough. I was impressed today. Your Lieutenant walked into a situation that was difficult. He came into a house full of strangers and he played a little bit of hardball by doing his job, and helping you do yours. You didn't invite his presence, but that didn't stop him." There was a certain amount of cowardice, selfishness that came with addiction. He had seen it in his courtroom over the years, while he was still sitting on the bench. "When Jack started having problems, you hid it from us. He didn't want to talk about it with the family."

"Hm." Sharon hummed. She smiled as she nodded. "I was embarrassed. Now I can see it for the illness that it is. Andy has no problem discussing his addiction or his sobriety because he's proud of the progress that he's made, and he's owned the mistakes of his past."

"You're proud of him," Richard pointed out. She hadn't even blinked at dinner, when he told her mother, in no uncertain terms, that he was declining her wine due to that fact.

"Yes I am. I won't speak to his past," Sharon said. "It isn't my story to tell, what I will say is that I was in a position to be able to watch, from a distance at least, the progress he made in clawing his way out of a bad situation. It was a situation that he created, but a bad one just the same. I am proud of him, every day." She shifted in her seat, clasped her hands in her lap again. "I understand where you're going with this. My marriage and the mistakes that were made in it, Jack's addiction and all of those issues should have given me reservations about Andy. Instead it did the exact opposite. I won't say that he isn't flawed. He is," Sharon chuckled quietly. "The man is stubborn, and arrogant, and he is hot-tempered. He is also kind, and he is caring." She hummed again. "He's just a man, dad. I haven't put him on a pedestal. I learned that lesson. We're not kids."

"No you are not." Richard laughed. "I think we're all well past the years of our youth. You're well beyond grown now. Well beyond middle age."

"Thanks." Sharon rolled her eyes at him. She sniffed. "I just love those little reminders. Now I know where Ricky got it from," she said, just a bit blandly.

"Mind your tongue, girl." Richard arched a brow at her, but he smirked. "Bring him back," he said. "When we can have a visit. When there isn't all this darkness hanging over our heads." He pointed his finger at her again and shook it. "When you can be here without biting my head off and flouncing about like this is one of your Los Angeles crime scenes. You've been in the city too long, that's what is wrong with you."

She snorted at him, but nodded her agreement. "I will do my best. It isn't easy for both of us to get away. He works for me."

"Yes I know." Richard gave her a smug little smile. "Your mother told me." Why his children thought that his wife didn't tell him things, he couldn't understand. She was his wife, long before she was their mother.

The knock at the closed study door prevented her from answering. Sharon turned in her seat, even as Richard called out the summons to enter. Robert poked his head in the room. He looked between his father and sister, hesitant to interrupt and even more hesitant to get in the middle of their _conversation_. The arguments the two had engaged in over the years were a bit legendary. Of all of them it was Sharon that was the most like their father, and that was the reason that he and the others, including their mother, believed they butted heads so often and so easily. Robert gaged the mood in the room quickly. They seemed at ease with one another, but the air was still a bit strained.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," he told them. "There are deputies here. Denise Matthews has been found."

**-TBC-**


	4. Chapter 4

**Home and Hearts Aflame**

**by Kadi  
Rated: T**

**Disclaimer: **I do love this sandbox, but sadly it is not mine.

* * *

**Chapter 4**

Robert's gaze moved to his sister. He was the youngest, the one that they had not expected or planned for. She had six years on him. "Sharon, I think we're going to need you." Robert paused, he sighed. His eyes were grim as he added. "Denise's body was found at the base of a ravine. The deputies want Daniel for questioning."

It was as though watching a transformation. Richard marveled at it for a moment. As saddened as he was by the tragic news, his attention was on his daughter as she pushed out of her chair. He followed, a bit more slowly given his much more advanced age. Even with her nephew earlier, while she had pushed, and pushed hard to get behind the secrets that he was hiding from them, he did not think that they had been greeted with _this_. It was like watching a curtain descend, one which completely masked the woman that they knew. She strode across the office at a clipped pace, back straight and exuding an aura of authority. So this was the _Captain_.

At the door, Richard joined his son. Sharon had moved right past him and was striding toward the den. "What did they say?"

"They aren't telling us anything," Robert said quietly. "They told us that she had been found and where, but they aren't saying anything else."

"Damn." Richard swore quietly. "Alright, let's see what your sister can get out of them."

As she left the study, Sharon heard voices coming from the parlor at the front of the house. It was just off the foyer and where any of the more formal meetings were held. It was exactly where her mother would have taken the Deputies while they spoke with Daniel. As she passed the den, Sharon glanced inside. She didn't see Andy. Her brows drew together as she continued striding toward the front of the house.

He was waiting for her at the base of the stairs. He stepped forward and held out the item that he had gone upstairs for. It was her badge. His was still clipped to his belt. They might be out of their jurisdiction, but it was still a symbol that would be respected by the local police. At least, with any luck it would be. "Captain." His face was grim, his voice steady.

"Lieutenant." She took the badge with a nod and slipped it onto the waist of her jeans. "I would like to maneuver them into questioning him here," she said, speaking quietly. "Failing that, we'll accompany him into Bend. That's where the County Sheriff's office is located. There's an annex in Redmond, but it's small, more of a local staging area. They won't use it for this."

"Oh, a little bit like Hollywood Division then." Andy glanced down at her. "Useless, most of the time, unless you're looking for a quick coffee break."

Sharon rolled her eyes toward him. She could take him out of the city, but his sarcasm was still perfectly in tact. She gave a small shake of her head as they stepped into the parlor. Her eyes swept it quickly. There were two deputies, but there were also officers present from the State Police. It was a little bit of overkill, at least for a simple questioning. Her brows rose toward her hairline. Daniel was noticeably and understandably upset. His mother sat on one of the plush love seats with him, rubbing his back while he leaned forward, hands buried in his hair.

She strode past the deputies without giving them much more than a glance. Sharon stopped beside her nephew and lay a hand on his shoulder. "Daniel." She spoke quietly, her tone gentle. When he looked up at her, she cupped his chin. "Okay?" His mother was there to reassure him, to take care of him, that was her job. His aunt would handle the rest.

He looked up at her, eyes wide and sad. "They found her body in the north ravine." Daniel shook his head. There was more that he wanted to say, but the words wouldn't come.

"Yes, I know." Her hand moved back to his shoulder. Sharon turned and let her gaze sweep the officers present. A brow rose. "Deputy Andrews." He was the only one that he recognized, the only one that she had spoken to with any regularity. "Was there anymore information that you could give us?"

"I'm afraid not ma'am." He had his hands resting on his duty belt. One was near his gun, the other near the holster holding his cuffs. Andrews turned and looked at those with him. "Ms. Raydor is Mr. Campbell's aunt. She's been—"

"Captain." His hands were on his hips. His gun was in a holster at his back, rather than being on prominent display. Andy's badge was clipped to his belt. He nodded his head toward Sharon, but kept his eyes on the local officers. "Captain Raydor," he corrected, voice low and stoic, but direct.

Andrews looked at him. He shifted where he stood. "Who are you?"

"Lieutenant Flynn is a colleague of mine." Sharon took a step forward, away from the love seat. She clasped her hands in front of her. "The Lieutenant and I are detectives with the LAPD." The reason for his presence was strictly none of their business as far as she was concerned. "You can understand why we are curious as to why you would need or want Daniel to join you for questioning. There must be some reasoning behind that decision."

"I'm sure that you can understand," Andrews replied, "that we don't want to talk about an open investigation. The matter of Denise Matthews's disappearance has not been closed. We still have questions for Mr. Campbell."

"Then ask them." Andy folded his arms over his chest. "No one here is stopping you." He exchanged a look with Sharon. They had misstepped, in telling Daniel up front that Denise had been found. Now anything that he told them would be laced in grief. Perhaps even a little bit of panic. It would color his statement. It was why they tried to get as much information as possible out of suspects or witnesses before delivering that kind of news. That was a knot that could not be untied.

"If it's privacy that you would like," Sharon continued, "we can ask the rest of the family to leave us alone for a few minutes. I see no reason to separate Daniel from everyone completely, not with what you've just told him." She held up a hand when the deputies looked ready to protest. "My nephew has been nothing but cooperative, and he will continue to cooperate with you. You've just delivered some very tragic news. Surely you can understand that he is in no fit state to go anywhere right now."

"Question him here." Steven Norris was the senior state trooper present. He took a step forward, let his hands rest at his hips. "The Captain is right," he nodded to her, although it was obvious he would have rather ignored her completely. "The location doesn't really matter."

Sharon turned before they could lose the ground that they just gained. "Evelyn." She drew her sister's attention. "Let's clear the room. You and Jacob should go back to the study. Andy and I will stay with Daniel. I'm sure the nice officers won't mind."

"Evelyn." Their father spoke up from near the door. He and Robert stood just inside the room. "Let's leave them to it. The sooner they start, the sooner they can be done."

She rubbed her son's back again. "He's told everyone what happened so many times, I don't know why we have to keep doing this." Evelyn rose from the small sofa and joined her husband. They stepped, however reluctantly, away from their son.

Andy exchanged a look with Sharon. He nodded once and followed them toward the door. He stood there with her father and brother. "It would be a good idea," he said quietly, "if you gather a few things. We're not likin' the look of this. Probably best if Daniel stays here for a little while. If something happens, then Sharon and I can move on it quick."

"Hm." Karen O'Dwyer had been present in the parlor, but wisely kept her own counsel. She hummed now, in a way that was entirely reminiscent of her daughter. "There's room enough. We'll get your old room made up," she told her youngest daughter. She knew full well they would want to stay near Danny. "We'll put the boys in together. He shouldn't be alone right now. Ricky will keep an eye on him."

"Come on." Jacob prodded his wife. "We'll go over and get our things together while they're talking to Danny. It will give us something to do while they're busy. It won't take long."

"Have Susan and Rick help you with the rooms," Richard instructed his wife. "I have a phone call to make." He glanced at his eldest daughter's Lieutenant and shook his head a bit grimly when the mad nodded. It was time to get that lawyer involved, it seemed. At least so that he was nearer to hand.

As they went off to see to their own tasks, Andy pulled the parlor's sliding, wooden double doors closed. He turned back into the room and walked over to stand near the end of the love seat. Sharon had taken a seat beside Daniel, effectively placing herself in a position to act as his protector. Andy shoved his hands into his pockets and tilted his head at the officers. "Okay," he said. "Room's cleared. What did you find?"

Deputy Andrews took a step forward. He ignored the question for the moment. "We'd like you to take us through that argument again. You told us that Ms. Matthews was upset, and she walked off."

"That's right." Daniel shifted on the sofa. He pushed a hand through his hair. He glanced at his aunt and sighed. When she nodded, he looked up at the officers. "Denise was pretty mad at me. We were sniping at each other, and she wasn't in the best mood. Neither was I. You know, like when you're trying to pick a fight because you both feel crappy about something. Well we had our fight, and Denise went for a walk to cool off. When you're girlfriend is torqued off at you, you just don't follow her right away," He told them.

Andy looked down at his feet. He rubbed a finger across his upper lip. That wasn't exactly the whole story, but it was true enough. When you piss your girlfriend off, it's better to leave her alone for a while. He glanced, quickly, briefly, at Sharon. Yep, he knew that one. "Danny," he spoke quietly, used the nickname, to remind them all who was on which side of this. "What pissed her off. Why was she so angry at you that she walked off after dark. Denise was experienced on that mountain. She knew better than to be walking around at night. The officers want to know why she was mad enough to ignore that." He exchanged a look with Sharon. It was time to tell them.

Daniel rubbed his palms against his jeans. "She um…" He chewed on his lip. "Denise was mad because I kept asking her to marry me, and she thought we should wait. She…" He looked around the room and shook his head. "She was pregnant. We didn't know if it was mine. I didn't care. She blew her top. But yeah, Denise knew the mountain. I didn't think she'd go far. I figured she'd stick to the trail and then come on back. She didn't. I got worried. I went looking for her."

"Wait a minute." Andrews shifted where he stood. He pointed a hand at Daniel. "Are you telling us that your girlfriend was pregnant, and you never told anyone until _now_?" He looked at the other officers that were with him. They were having the same reaction that he was. "It never occurred to you that might be information that we should have?"

"She didn't want anyone to know." Daniel shrugged miserably. "Denise didn't know what she wanted to do about it yet. We broke up for a while, a few weeks ago, and she was with someone else. She didn't know if it was mine, and she wasn't ready for other people to know about all of it yet. I thought that… if she just twisted an ankle or something, and we were going to find her, that I shouldn't let it get around town. Her parents didn't even know yet. I wanted _her_ to still be able to tell them when she was ready."

"Then why did you wait so long to call for help," this from trooper Norris, who had taken a step forward. "If you knew she was pregnant, and she wasn't back from her walk, why wait half a day?"

"Denise was pissed." Daniel shrugged at them. "I thought maybe she walked down to the clearing and called someone to come get her. I spent most of the night trying to call her. I was kinda ticked off too. I mean, I was trying. I was really _trying_ to be what she needed me to be, but Denise…" He sighed. Daniel ran a hand through his hair again. "Denise had it in her head that she wasn't good enough for my family. It wasn't the first time we argued about it. So the next morning, I walked down to the clearing again, and I started calling her friends and our friends, and I was trying to figure out if she was with anyone. No one had seen her, not even her mother, so yeah… that's when I called for help."

Sharon held up a hand before the officers could ask their next question. She looked at her nephew, a frown was drawing her brows together. There was information he had not previously mentioned to her. "What do you mean, Denise thought she wasn't good enough for the family?"

"It's the money thing." He shrugged. "You know, her mom was a school teacher and her dad took off when she was little. I went to private school down in Bend and she was a public school girl. I went to Stanford with Rick, and Denise went to community college, and then later a state school. Mom has the design firm, dad's got that big spread west of town, and he's a doctor… Plus everyone else in the family. You know, we're not exactly commoners, that's what she would say. It's not like we're rich, but she always felt… weird with us. Grandpa was a judge, and we've got the ranch, and hell…" He shrugged at her. "Aunt Sharon, we've seen you on CNN. Don't try to pretend that you're _just a cop_. It's LA."

She touched his arm. "So Denise was uncomfortable with the fact that you were asking her to marry you. Why did you break up a few weeks ago. What precipitated that event?"

"I asked her to go to Italy with me." Daniel lowered his head, his shoulders slumped. "Rick has been talking about going back to Europe for a while, ever since he sold his part in his company. We went, you know, the summer after sophomore year, and we back packed around a couple of places. We loved it. We were thinking about going back, and there's someone he wants to take, and so I asked Denise. She wanted to pay her own way, if she went, and I wouldn't let her. I mean, I was inviting her on vacation with me, it wasn't right. We got into a fight about it, and she dumped me."

Sharon stamped down on her sudden urge to ask more about Ricky and his _someone_. She would revisit that later. "While you were apart, she met someone else," she prodded.

"Yes." Daniel sighed. "A guy she knew in high school. She kind of… well, she broke up with him to go out with me. Joey Davis. They hooked back up for a while. Not long, we started talking, you know, and decided that we could figure things out. We weren't our families. I told her we didn't have to do the Italy trip if it made her uncomfortable, but she said that if I wanted to go, then we would. I told her if it made her feel better, she could take care of our flights. Hers and Mine. I would handle all of the rest. We worked it out. We both felt really great about it."

"Where did you go," Norris asked him. "When you were looking for her up on the mountain. Which way did you walk."

"All over." Daniel shrugged. "I went back to the main trail and I walked north for a bit. There are a couple of hiking trails that break off from that. The smaller ones. So I checked both of those a little ways. I didn't think she would go that far. I walked out to the ridge, but it's kind of dangerous at night, so I didn't really go very far along that. I checked it the next morning, but I didn't see her. I walked all of it the next morning. Then I went back down toward the clearing and checked some of the smaller hiking trails that break off from it. I stayed on the trails," he told them. "Denise would have stayed on the trails." Daniel looked around at all of their faces. "Right? Isn't that where you found her? Off one of the trails. I didn't go far enough. I should have kept walking. Isn't that what you mean?"

He was beginning to get upset, starting to panic. Sharon lay a hand on his arm again. "Daniel, I'm sure that's not what they're saying." She looked up at the officers. "Where was Denise found?"

Deputy Andrews continued to study the young man. Finally he put his hands on his hips again. "North of the campsite. From what we can gather, she walked the north hiking trail, followed the fork where it broke off. Then it looks like she left the trail completely. We're not sure if she got lost, or got turned around in the dark. She was a good two miles from camp, outside all of our original search grids. No one thought she went that far. We're not clear on what happened yet. We're waiting on the M.E. report, but it looks like she fell… We found her in a ravine." It looked like a hell of a lot more than that, but they weren't saying anything. The M.E. would have to call it.

"Oh god." Daniel leaned forward, hands covering his face. Grief shuddered through him. "I shoulda kept walking."

Sharon stood up and moved away from Daniel, she nodded for the officers to follow her. They moved closer to the door, and she glanced at Andy when he came to stand beside her. "Gentlemen, I think that's enough. You're not here to take him in, or you would have already read him his rights." She spoke quietly, not wanting Daniel to hear her. "The coroner hasn't had time to do an autopsy yet, so I think we all know that this was a fishing expedition."

"You've got a reason to believe it wasn't just an accident," Andy said. His arms were folded across his chest. He scowled at them. "Maybe it's time you tell us what it is you think happened."

Andrews sighed. It was an open investigation, but they were walking a fine line with cooperating with the family and investigating any wrong doing. "The victim was pretty beat up," he said quietly. "The wounds aren't all consistent with a fall."

"Looks like someone beat her up and tossed her down the ravine," the other deputy muttered. "But that's just our local boy opinion."

"Nick." Norris looked at him and shook his head slowly. The younger deputy had an issue with the cops from Los Angeles showing up and pushing their weight around. Not that there had been much pushing. She was a local girl, once upon a time. What the boy, Daniel, said about the family had some truth in it. They weren't rich, maybe not in terms of multiple millions of dollars, but they were pretty well off. They were also pretty well connected. The old Judge owned some prime locations around town, both in Redmond and Bend. So did his sons. What they didn't own, they were friends with the people that did own them. The grandkids had been given the very best. To some, Daniel Campbell might be considered a bit of a playboy. He had never been in trouble before. The Judge ran a tight ship, everyone knew that too. "We have some concerns," he said. "Our departments had to give the Matthews family some bad news. You can understand that we want to make sure we know exactly what happened."

"I understand completely." Sharon studied them. She folded her arms over her chest and let her head tilt, while her mind drifted a bit. "If, and I'm not saying that I support the theory I think you're operating from, but if Denise Matthews was assaulted… given that area and the terrain…" She shrugged. "There isn't a mark on Daniel. No sign of defensive wounds, and no bruising to his hands to indicate that he was involved in a physical altercation. He mentioned her ex-boyfriend, someone that she was involved with again for a short time. Someone who might have reason to be upset with the two of them. If your coroner rules foul play in Denise's death, it might be prudent to speak to that young man."

"I agree." Andrews nodded once. "But in the meantime, Captain, I think you know that you shouldn't let your nephew get too far out of town. I'd keep him close. We may have more questions. Or we may need to take him in."

"Understood." Her brows lifted. "But be sure that you come back with more than a theory, gentlemen." Sharon's gaze hardened. She waited for their acknowledgement before she turned. "Lieutenant, will you show the officers out." She stepped around them and walked back to the sofa, where she took a seat with her nephew.

"Yes ma'am." He fought the urge to grin. Andy reached out and pushed open one side of the sliding, wooden doors. "This way…" He waved them out ahead of him.

Sharon watched them leave from the corner of her eye. "You did great," she told Daniel. "I sent your parents to pick up some things. The three of you are going to stay here. I don't think the police are finished with you, Daniel. I think there could be some hard days ahead. I need you to get ready for that, but keep answering their questions. Stay truthful, be specific to the question. Just like we talked about earlier today. Understood?"

"They can't honestly think I hurt her?" Daniel stared at her. "I'd never—"

"I know." She rubbed his arm. "They don't know what to think yet, Daniel. They have to explore every angle. I know it doesn't seem like it, but they're doing this for Denise and her family. They're just trying to make sure they have all the information that family needs. That might mean leaning on you especially hard right now. Keep it together, honey. I know it isn't easy."

"I got it mom." Ricky stood nearby. He had come in the minute the officers left. "We're going to head upstairs, check out the sleeping arrangements."

"That sounds like a very good idea." She stood as Daniel did the same. "Go on," she told him. She followed them to the exit and into the foyer. As they went one way up the stairs, she continued forward. She met Andy standing just inside the door. "I never thought I would miss Doctor Morales as much as I do right now."

"I know." Andy shook his head. They were at the mercy of the locals, waiting for information. At home, they could make a phone call. It would be simple. Andy didn't have a lot of confidence in the officers that they had met so far. "I get that Bend isn't that big, but it's got to have a couple of detectives on staff. Why are the deputies and state police still riding this thing. If they think Daniel did something wrong, why not turn it over to homicide?"

"Jurisdictional lines." Richard had his hands pushed into his pockets. He joined them from his study, along with Robert. "Homicide belongs to the police department. The PD is tied in to the city. The county has an investigator's office, but it's a couple of experienced deputies. Out here and up into the mountain that falls into the county's purview. The state police will assist, but it's still a county issue."

"Hm." Andy shook his head. He grunted. "Coroner reports to the county, not the city." He cast a bland look at Sharon. "Much like Doctor Morales."

"Exactly." She smiled at him. "We just tend to get lucky. He likes us."

"Sure he does." Andy sighed. "They haven't got enough for any kind of warrant yet. That will change."

"I called the lawyer." Richard looked at his daughter. "His name is David Maxwell. He'll be here tomorrow. He's going to come down, take a look at what's going on, unofficially, as a favor to me. We'll hold off on retaining him until something actually happens."

Just as she had advised. Sharon nodded. "I'm going to go and call Rusty before it gets any later. You'll check on things in LA?" she turned, letting her attention drift to Andy again.

"Yeah." He shoved his hands into his pockets. "I'll make sure they haven't caught a case without us." He shrugged at her, offered a small grin. "But," he faked a cough, "I still have the flu."

"Then you can't possibly go to work." The corners of her mouth twitched toward a smile. "But you will let me know how the team is doing?"

"Absolutely, Captain." He grinned and pulled out his phone. He looked at her father and brother, "Excuse me, the boss has spoken."

As he moved off, Robert looked at his sister. He arched a brow at her. "How much trouble do you think Danny is in?"

"It's going to get worse before it gets better." Her eyes were grim. Sharon shook her head. "Everyone should be prepared for a few hard days. Maybe even longer, depending on the evidence and coroner's report."

"We'll handle it as it comes." Richard stated. "Go and make your call, Sharon. It's getting late, the boy has things to do."

"Yes, thank you." Sharon turned away from them and made her way up the stairs. Her phone was left charging in her room. She wasn't hesitant in getting away from the others. It had proved to be a long day, and all things considered, with the tragedy surrounding Daniel and his girlfriend and then the confrontation with her father, Sharon was looking forward to being alone for a few minutes.

When she reached her room, she took the phone from its charger and walked over to stand in front of the wide, picture windows. It was already dark outside, but it was a moonlit sky. In the distance she could almost make out the shadowy outline of the mountains. She sighed quietly. It always amazed her that something so beautiful could be so dangerous. Her lips pursed while she considered them.

"What happened on that mountain," she murmured.

It seemed that finally locating Denise Matthews had left them with more questions than answers.

**-TBC-**


	5. Chapter 5

**Home and Hearts Aflame**

**by Kadi  
Rated: T**

**Disclaimer: **I do love this sandbox, but sadly it is not mine.

* * *

**Chapter 5**

"I'm at home. I'm studying, and absolutely nothing happened today." Those were the first words out of Rusty's mouth when he answered his phone. He was seated on the sofa, books spread around him, and his laptop open on the cushion beside him. There was an open pizza box on the coffee table. Rusty leaned back and tapped his pencil against the open book on his lap.

Sharon laughed. It was a low, throaty sound that filled the bedroom. She leaned against the window ledge and continued to look out over the moonlit night. "I could just be calling to say hello. You don't have to automatically assume that I'm checking up on you," she said in a light tone.

"You're calling to check up on me," Rusty said drily. "You never just call to say hello anymore." He looked down at his books and his notes. That was okay. He could give her that much. It hadn't been an easy few months. Rusty knew that Sharon was worrying about him. More than that, she was _frightened_ for him. While he was walking around living his life, pretending that Phillip Stroh had never existed, had never known his name, and had never escaped, Sharon was worrying about him. He could let her call a few times a day if it made her feel better. The truth was, Rusty just didn't think he was coming back. Why would he? Phillip Stroh was finally free, it simply didn't make any sense that he would risk that, now, just to come back for _him_. His testimony was on record. It wouldn't do Stroh any good. Not now. Rusty had no plans to take any unnecessary risks, but honestly, he thought it was over. He was going to live like it was over. "How's Oregon?" He asked, not wanting to dwell on those thoughts any longer.

She sighed, because he was right. She didn't just call him anymore to say hello. Of course, she saw him every evening, and most mornings, and sometimes throughout the course of the day. She was _always_ checking up on him. How did she explain to him that there were moments when she simply could not breathe? When the thought of not picking up her phone and making sure that he was okay was like having the air sucked right out of her. She was not usually prone to moments of panic. She could function in her daily life, in her career, just fine without feeling any overwhelming sense of fear. Her job certainly wasn't the safest she could have chosen. Her older children lived away from her. Those were things that she was comfortable with, however. Children grew up, they moved away, and they lived their own lives. Her career was exactly as she had shaped it to be. There were moments of adrenaline and worry, darkness and grief, but it was her job. When it came to her youngest child, the son that her heart had chosen, beyond all thought, or reason, or attempts on her part to remain objective and distant, what she felt were moments of stark terror.

She let go of him once. He came back to her bruised and bloodied. She ignored her instincts and put his safety in the hands of others, so that they might capture a man who was threatening him. She almost lost him. These were not things that Sharon would allow to happen again. Her instincts told her that he was in danger. It wasn't immediate, but it was lurking at a distance, not quite tangible, but present. Rusty didn't want security. Rusty didn't want a lot of things. He might be an adult, but he was still her child. She hadn't given birth to him. She had not raised him. He wasn't her baby. He was still her son. She had taken him in as a boy and she was helping him to become the man that he wanted to be. That meant keeping him safe, even when he didn't believe that he needed it.

It allowed her to breathe, knowing that he was protected, even when she couldn't be with him. Rusty wanted to live life on his terms. Sharon was living life on _hers_.

"Not great," she said, in answer to his question. Sharon sighed again and shifted where she stood. "We found Daniel's friend. I'm afraid it came too late to help her. It looks like I may be here for a few more days," she told him. "We're going to have to wait for the coroner's report. They haven't ruled out foul play yet."

"Oh my god." Rusty sat a little straighter. He was reminded that there were a lot of things going on in the world that were much worse than his current troubles and stressors. "That's really horrible, Sharon. I'm sorry. They don't…" Rusty paused, not really sure how to ask his next question. He lived with a homicide detective. He was surrounded by others practically every day. His mind immediately went to the worst case scenario, and he was sorry for that too. "They don't think that your nephew had anything to do with it, do they?"

He was careful in how he worded it. Sharon smiled. It was another example of just how far he had come. Her boy was learning to be more tactful in life. During those first months that he was with her, Rusty would have just blurted his question and it would have been laced with a lot of sarcasm too. "They don't know what to think yet," she said quietly. "I don't believe that Daniel was involved in any foul play, he's told me his story, and I believe it." She paused, while her lips pursed. "Fortunately, I have someone here who can be a little more objective. Lieutenant Flynn believes it too."

"Ah." Rusty felt a smile forming. He leaned back on the sofa as a grin curved his lips. "That's good. So I guess he's helping out a little bit." He tapped his pencil against his book again. "Might be a good thing that he showed up."

Sharon rolled her eyes at the teasing note in his tone. "Yes, I think it could be. What I am trying to understand is when my sons started thinking that I need looking after? Also, it would help to know at which point they began to think they have a say in my personal relationships?"

Rusty knew that tone. It was the _tread carefully before she nails you_ tone. His grin widened. "I can't help you out with that. I don't understand a lot of what goes on in Ricky's head. I mean, he cuts his own hair, Sharon. I'm never going to understand that. If you're asking me why I got involved…" He trailed off, smirked a bit. "Well that happened the first time I came out of my room and found you kissing some strange guy while you made him breakfast."

Her eyes closed. Sharon's head bowed. She reached up and rubbed her temple with her free hand. "_Rusty_."

"Too much?" He knew when to rein it in. He could push her only so far before she pushed back. Rusty put his book aside. He shrugged, even though she couldn't see it. "You sounded upset," he said, growing more serious. "He was worried about you. He cares about you, and you know, I can pretty much see for myself that you care about him too. Sharon, I know you're good at taking care of things by yourself. You do it a lot. I think the point is, you don't have to. You've got it in your head that it's your job to take care of us, and that's not a bad thing, but Ricky and I have a stake in all this too. We worry, just like you do. Since you wouldn't let us take care of you, we called in the big guns."

Sharon hummed thoughtfully. "I do appreciate that, Rusty. I'm glad to have him here, and he has helped. The thing is, as much as you want me to allow you to make your own choices and mistakes, there are some areas of my life in which I need to find my own footing too. Can you understand that?"

"I can." Rusty's head tilted. "I just don't agree that this is one of them. I don't know all of the details, and I don't have to know them. Ricky was worried, and it was enough for him to tell me that there could be issues with you getting involved in this situation. I get that families are complicated. There are secrets and histories, and things that I just don't need to know. I'm good with all of that Sharon. It was just our turn to help out."

She shook her head. Sharon looked heavenward and smiled warmly. They were all growing up and it was a little hard to accept at times. "Then I will say thank you, and I will caution you, as I did your brother, that there are some things that are—"

"None of my business." Rusty laughed. "I know. You kind of made this one my business, though. I mean, I'm still living in the middle of all this, Sharon."

"I know," she said softly. She tried, very hard, to not make it awkward for him. Relationships did not occur in a vacuum, however. "Let's talk about something else. How is the studying?"

"Not bad." Rusty was a little relieved to have the subject change. "You were right, staying on top of it makes it a lot easier. There's still a lot of it. I have a couple of papers to do, and then it's just all about the exams. I think it's going to be okay. It's not even nearly as bad as Ricky made it sound."

"Well," Sharon smirked, "you aren't going to a half dozen Frat parties every week either. That could be a big part of it. The first semester is always the hardest, Rusty, and not too surprisingly, so is the last. I think you're doing just fine." She hummed again, because he was stuck there all by himself, and as much as she worried about him, there was another emotion vying for control too. "I miss you."

"I know." Rusty picked at the corner of his notebook. This was the longest that they had ever been apart, that week he spent with Lieutenant Provenza during the Wade Weller incident aside. At least then Sharon had only been a couple of miles away, and it wasn't like he hadn't seen her. He had. This was different. She was hundreds of miles away, and as much as he wished sometimes that she would just let him do things on his own, he didn't really mean _on his own_. He wasn't ready for that yet. Rusty sighed. "Me too," he admitted. "You'll be home in a couple of days, right?"

"I hope so." Sharon glanced over as the door to her room opened. She smiled at Andy as he entered. There was a question in his eyes. She nodded and waved him into the room. "I'm really hoping that we can wrap this up soon. Unfortunately, we won't really know until the coroner's report comes back. I promise to call, just as soon as I know something."

She would. Emily was right about one thing. Sharon always kept her promises, or at least, she kept them as often as she could, when it was within her power to do so. Rusty thought about it for a moment. "If you're still there this weekend, I could come up if you want me to," he offered carefully. He knew that she worried, and if she was still there, maybe he could help her worry a little bit less.

"Hm." Sharon continued to watch Andy. She smiled when he approached her. His hands settled against her waist. He drew her close. She settled a hand against his chest. "I would like that," she said. "But no, Rusty. It's okay. As much as I want you here, it won't be a comfortable situation. Stay home. Study. Try to have a little fun too."

"Oh yeah. Fun. What is that again?" Rusty rolled his eyes. "The only plans I have right now are writing my paper and going with Buzz to the shooting range so he can practice for one of his tests. Detective Sanchez is going to. This is going to be the weirdest guys day in the history of guys days. Seriously, Sharon. I can get on a plane. It's not a problem."

"Wait." She pushed Andy away from her as she straightened. She looked away from him, out the window, but without truly seeing what she was looking at. "They're taking you to the shooting range?" Her voice dropped an octave. "_Why_ are they taking you to the shooting range? Rusty…"

He groaned. "Oh god." Rusty sighed. "Sharon, relax. I'm not going to be shooting a gun. At least, I don't think so. I don't plan to. Guns are kind of creepy. I mean, I know you have one, and Flynn has one, and I'm good with them in the condo, but… you know, I don't need to touch one. We're just hanging out. Then we're going to a movie."

"For the record," she began. "I do not agree with this activity. Rusty, the shooting range is not a place to _hang out_." The hands that were settled against her waist moved upward. She looked up at the man in front of her. She watched Andy open his mouth. Sharon reached up and placed her fingers over his lips to keep him from speaking. She shook her head at him.

There was a warning in her gaze. Andy's brows drew together, even while amusement sparkled in his eyes. What was so wrong with the shooting range? Buzz was studying to be a reserve officer. That required shooting well. Julio was helping out. Actually, they all were, at least a little. He was determined to do this thing, and they wanted him to be safe. Personally, he didn't really agree with it, but it wasn't his choice to make. For all they knew, Buzz would be really good at it. Or he would get hurt. That was something that Andy tried to _not_ think about. Right now, he was more amused at the idea of Sharon having a fit about them dragging Rusty along to the range. The kid wasn't so much a _kid_ anymore. He was eighteen. He was a guy. A guy who happened to be surrounded by cops most of the time. Guys, cops in particular, hung out at the shooting range. Andy reached up and curled his hand around her fingers. Beneath them, his lips pursed.

"Yes." Rusty smiled, despite his own frustration at her tone. "It's not like I'm going to be hanging out there with guys from school. I'm going with Buzz and Julio. I think maybe it will be okay. Unless you think that they are in some way unsafe?" His lips pursed and he hummed. "Are they unsafe, Sharon? Is that why you're suddenly freaking out about this."

"One," she began carefully, "I am not _freaking out_ about anything." When Andy grunted her eyes narrowed. "Two, I do not believe that either of them is _unsafe_, but I do not think that it is an appropriate Saturday afternoon activity." She huffed, flashed an annoyed look at the man in front of her when his lips teased the tips of her fingers. She tugged on her hand but he wasn't letting go of it. "Because I trust the two of them, and because I trust you, I am going to allow it. Just know that I expect the three of you to be responsible, mature adults, and Rusty…"

"If I choose to put my hands on a weapon," he stated, "I will give it the respect that it deserves, but I really don't think that's going to happen." He grinned. "Sharon, you don't have to worry about me every second of the day. That's kind of the reason I'm going to be hanging out with them all day. I mean, we wanted to do the movie, but I'm with them, so you can relax. Okay?"

She felt a little guilty about it. Her shoulders slumped a bit. Sharon sighed. He was doing this for her. For just a moment she regretted the extra security, and that she was hiding it from him. It didn't last long. He couldn't spend all of his time with the others either, just as he couldn't spend all of his time with her. "Okay," she said finally. "Try to have a good time." Sharon chewed on the corner of her lip. She was tugged forward. An arm wrapped around her waist. She tugged on her hand again, and this time it was freed. She lay it against Andy's shoulder and let it slide down his arm in a simple caress. "Don't study too hard, and Rusty, eat something besides Pizza and burgers."

His eyes went to the open pizza box in front of him. "Sure." He smirked. "I'll do that, starting tomorrow. Goodnight, Sharon."

"Goodnight, honey. I'll call you again soon." She disconnected the call. Sharon let her hand fall. Her head fell forward too, to rest against the strong, solid chest in front of her. Sharon groaned. "He is supposed to be hanging out at chess tournaments and trying to figure out how to ask out the cute boy in his study group. He is not supposed to be spending his Saturday afternoon at the shooting range so that his neurotic mother isn't worried about him all of the time."

Andy chuckled quietly. He placed his hands in her hair and bent down to kiss the top of her head. "You're not neurotic," he said. She did worry about him all of the time, but he couldn't exactly blame her for that. It wasn't an easy situation. He thought that they were handling it okay. "He's going to hang out at plenty of chess tournaments. One of these days, he'll ask out the cute boy in his study group. Right now, he's hanging out with his other pals. There's nothing wrong with that. He's around us all the time, Sharon. The shooting range isn't much different than the Murder Room."

"I suppose." She didn't really believe that, and she was sure that he didn't either, but it was nice of him to try. She lifted her head and looked at him. "It's alright. I know that I _am_ a little neurotic where Rusty is concerned. We raise our children to adulthood and we think that finally we can breathe. Letting go of them isn't easy. It's hard, watching them move through life, witnessing their mistakes and failures as they carve out their own paths. With Rusty…" She trailed off and shrugged. "He's been in danger since he came to me, in one way or another. Sometimes I wonder, when it does end, and I have to believe that one day it _will_ end, but when it does… how am I going to live my life in a world where I'm not constantly thinking about how to keep him safe?"

"That's not neurotic." He flipped her hair back, over her shoulder, and settled his hand against the side of her neck. His thumb traced the line of her jaw, and smoothed the slight pout of her bottom lip. "It's called being a mother. It's also called being human. You'll figure it out." Andy tugged her closer, let his arms slide around her. "Rusty is going to be okay. You got him this far. It's time to start letting him do the rest."

Sharon pouted a bit. "That's easier said than done." They still had the specter of Phillip Stroh hanging over them. She shook her head. "You're right though, he's doing okay. Rusty is actually doing a lot better in this situation than I thought he would be." So was she, and there was a reason for that. Rusty had a point, she wasn't alone in any of this. One of the reasons she was doing just fine was standing in front of her. He was holding her. She leaned into him. Her hands slid up and around his neck. She still held her phone in one of them, but the fingers of the other stroked through the short, silver hairs above his collar. "I know that I've already said it, but I'm saying it again. I'm glad you're here."

"So am I." His hands settled low against her back. "Your sister and her husband are back. Everyone is getting settled in. Did you want to go back downstairs?"

She thought about it. Finally Sharon shook her head. "No, I think we should let everyone try and settle in. If I go back downstairs they're going to want to ask questions. I think we've discussed this enough for one night. I want to let Danny grieve, not spend the rest of the evening worrying about what happened on that mountain. He's going to think about it anyway, and he's going to second guess what he did, but we can keep him on track if we don't become part of it."

"It's not easy being on this side of it." Andy smiled down at her. She had never been investigated, and the closest she had come to it was having Julio's conduct looked at by FID. This was entirely new for Sharon, but being the person who took care of her family wasn't. His head tilted as he studied her. "How did it go with your father?" He asked, hoping to change the subject a little.

"Hm." She drew a breath and let it out slowly. "It was a little odd, actually. I was ready for one of our usual talks. The kind where we end up arguing and I don't speak to him for several weeks." Sharon shook her head. She gave a delicate shrug of her shoulders. "My relationship with my father is complicated. I think we may have finally cleared a few things up, though. He's worried about you." A smile tugged at her lips. "I think he might like you, but he's worried about the past, and how it's going to reflect on the now." Her lips pursed, she smiled a bit sheepishly. "You know, I'm actually beginning to realize that my relationship with my father is very much like my relationship with Rusty. He's always worried about me, and I'm always trying to prove that there's nothing for him to worry about. Some things never change," she said, "no matter how old we get."

"You're still his little girl." Andy grinned widely. His eyes sparkled. "That's not a bad thing. This is something that I know a little bit about. In a way, you're right. No matter how old you get, he's still going to picture you in pig tails, jumping on the bed, and pretending that if you jump high enough, you can touch the clouds. It's a thing we do, it helps get us through the day. Especially when we have to think about some guy coming around, and the fact that he might break her heart or somehow become more important." He shrugged. "We don't always react the way we probably should. You moms, damn, you've got it easy. Us dads? Hell no. We have to find some way to let go, and to wrap our heads around the idea that some other guy is going to take over protecting our girl. It's a rough gig. We don't always get it right. We screw up. It's especially hard when we know that we're right, and the guy is a complete bozo. It's why, when we run alongside them on that first bicycle ride, we never really let go. We grit our teeth and pretend to smile the whole time they're learning how to drive. That first date? Forget the idea of sleeping. It's not going to happen. Then we have to stand there and smile when they tell us they're going to marry some punk? Do you have any idea how hard it is not to take the little shit out back and_ not_ beat the crap out of him? Give the old guy a break. He's got the hard job."

Sharon hummed. Her lips were pursed. She snorted a laugh. Her body shook with it. She had to lean in to him. "Oh god." Her eyes were alight with humor and joy. Sharon held on to him as she laughed. "I cannot believe that I fell in love with such a chauvinist." She shook her head at him. "To think, we've got it easy? Oh honey… Oh no. Hmm." Sharon leaned up and kissed him. "You're cute. I hope you know that. Thank you, I appreciate the effort, but… no, honey. We have to carry them. For nine months we have to feel them, and then we spend the next eighteen years terrified. The first time they sleep through the night, the first word, first step, first day of school. You may be running alongside that first bicycle ride, but we're trying not to panic at the thought of the skinned knees we'll be kissing better afterward. You tough out the first date, but we wipe away the tears when that first boyfriend breaks up with them."

He pouted at her. Andy sniffed. "I am not a chauvinist. Never once have I told you that you can't carry your own gun." Andy pulled her closer. "Okay, so you don't have it easier. I'm just saying, being a dad, it's hard work. We try to make it look tough and macho, but it's pretty damned scary. Especially when we have daughters. Sons are easy by comparison. You throw a ball, you take them camping. Daughters are hard, and its hell on a guy's ego. Give the old guy a break. He might be a mean old bird, but he's looking out for you."

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. Sharon folded her arms around him and tucked her face into his neck. A tremor moved down her spine. She drew a thin breath. Her eyes closed against a sudden onslaught of tears. It was a bit gratifying to know that she was right. She had chosen right this time. He wasn't perfect. He was gruff and sarcastic. He was prone to excuses and mistakes, and sometimes he fumbled through life, but that was okay. He usually found his way. He was intelligent, and he was caring. He was passionate about the things and people that he cared about, and sometimes that attributed to his mistakes, but he always tried. His heart was in the right place. He was just what she needed.

"No, you aren't a chauvinist," she murmured. "You are exactly what and who you are supposed to be." Sharon pressed her lips against his neck. She kissed a path to his lips. Her lips touched his, once, and then twice, and then in a more lingering caress. "I love you," she said softly.

A hand moved into her hair. He gripped the back of her head and let his mouth cover hers. His tongue danced across her bottom lip. He felt her lips curve against his. His other hand settled against her hip, drew her closer. When she hummed and sighed into the kiss, Andy drew back. He gazed down at her, the heavily lidded eyes, the fuller looking lips. He kissed the tip of her nose. _Love you_. He mouthed it before he kissed her again, and reached back to take her phone out of her hand. He turned her, and started walking her backward.

Andy placed her phone on the dresser, beside his, and then he maneuvered her into the attached bathroom. It had been a long day. He could see the strain around her eyes. He moved around her in the small room. It was hardly big enough to house the toilet, vanity, and old clawfoot tub. Andy reached down and turned the dials. Water began flowing into the tub. He waited for it to heat before he dropped the plug into the drain. When he straightened, he found her watching him. Her eyes were sparkling, there was a smile playing at her lips. He slipped his hand just inside the front waist of her jeans and tugged her forward. He grinned at the lack of resistance. His hands caught the edge of her sweater and as he slid it upward, her arms lifted for him.

She hummed quietly. When he moved around behind her, a sigh left her lips at the feel of his arms circling her. One hand splayed across her stomach. The other caught the strap of her bra and slowly lowered it, while his lips followed its path. Sharon tilted her head for him, let her eyes drift closed. She settled against him, and could feel the heat of his body through his shirt, warming her through. When his fingers dipped low across her belly and she felt the clasp of her jeans open, she gasped quietly. A soft moan filled the room. It was nearly eclipsed by the sound of the tub filling. Steam circulated the air, heating it, filling it with moisture that made her hair begin to cling to her skin. Sharon was loathe to move, but she lifted first one leg, and then the other, and lowered the zippers on her riding boots. She toed out of them, and as she moved against him, she felt the groan that rumbled through his body.

He caught the waist of her jeans and tugged the material downward. His hands followed its course as he pushed it down, over her hips and along her thighs. His arm circled her waist, steadying her as she stepped out of the denim. By the time that he had finished undressing her, the water level in the tub had reached an acceptable level. Andy reached over and turned off the faucet. He took a moment to admire the beauty of her as she stood in front of him, skin flushed, glistening with a fine layer of moisture in the heated and humid room. Andy kissed the top of her head. Then he moved around her. "I'll get you a towel."

Her hand circled his arm, drew him back. Sharon shook her head at him. "Get two of them," she said, voice thick and lilting with emotion and desire.

His eyes flickered to the tub. He gauged its size. It would be an interesting fit, but they could make it work. Andy nodded once. "Get in, I'll join you in a minute."

Sharon hummed. Her brow arched. She gave him a meaningful look. "I'll wait." He had waited for her long enough. Her eyes tracked his movements. She watched him retrieve the towels from the decorative rack in the corner. When he rejoined her, she took the same meticulous care at undressing him that he had shown her.

With Jack, she never felt at ease expressing the physical side of their relationship in this house. Perhaps it was youth, or the circumstances that had clouded their early years. Jack had not joined her in Oregon often, and later, he hadn't joined her because he was gone. She didn't experience that level of discomfort now. As she stepped into the arms of the man that was with her on this trip, all she could think of was the feel of him against her. The heat and the thrill of his hands and mouth, and the way the tension of the past several days began to melt away. She could think of only the way her heart fluttered at the feather light touch of his fingertips against her skin, and his lips against her shoulder. She was filled, not with concern at being caught or what others might think, but gratitude. She was grateful every day that he had chosen her, that it was _her_ that made his eyes darken with need, or soften with emotion. She was grateful for his friendship, and the way that he made her laugh, but most of all, she was grateful for the opportunity to be able to give those things back to him.

There was darkness and pain all around them. In quiet moments like these they were insulated. It was just the two of them. As they settled into the tub, and his arms wrapped around her, she realized that she did want to bring him back. Someday she wanted to come back, and she wanted to bring Rusty, and she would bring Andy, and finally close all of the gaps in her family.

Finally, it would be whole. He made her feel whole, and that was something worth holding on to. It was worth waiting for. She was grateful that he had.

**-TBC-**


	6. Chapter 6

**Home and Hearts Aflame**

**by Kadi  
Rated: T**

**Disclaimer: **I do love this sandbox, but sadly it is not mine.

* * *

**Chapter 6**

Karen O'Dwyer looked up as another figure shuffled into the kitchen. It was early. The first light of day was just beginning to spread across the countryside. Beyond the windows that lined her kitchen, the gray hues of early morning were giving way to scarlet and gold as the sun made its appearance in the east. She stood, a hip leaning against her counter, as she beat eggs for scrambling. She was more than eighty years old, and some mornings were harder than others, but she was still up with the sun as often as possible. Karen glanced over and watched her eldest daughter pour a cup of coffee. She had always been an early riser, that girl. There had been a time when she would have been out with the horses before even thinking about coffee or breakfast. Karen watched her cross the room. She studied her, watched her lean against the counter and cradle her cup in both hands. Her daughter's eyes drifted. She was gazing out the window. There was worry in that gaze, but it couldn't completely dispel the relaxed, happy glow. Karen hummed quietly and turned. She poured the eggs into a skillet and began to scramble them.

"I understand you had words with your father last night?" While the eggs began to heat, Karen reached over and turned the bacon. It was early, but it wouldn't be long before the others would begin making their way downstairs. She intended to have breakfast on the table. She had raised four children in this house in the same manner. Adding grandchildren and other newcomers made it no different than any other day spent taking care of her family.

Sharon took a sip of her coffee. She shook her head and smiled. "Is there anything that you don't talk to him about?" She pushed away from where she leaned against the counter and moved closer. She placed her coffee near the stove and took over, stirring the eggs.

"Is there anything that you don't talk to yours about?" Karen slanted a look at her. She arched a brow while a smile tugged at her lips. "Your dad and I talk about a lot of things." She reached out with her fork and smacked her daughter's hand. "You can get away from my eggs, little girl."

Sharon drew away with a laugh. "Yes ma'am." She picked up her coffee cup again and leaned back, but remained close. Her cheeks colored at the thought of all the things that she and Andy talked about, or didn't. "Point taken. Yes, we spoke, and I think it went okay. Since I know that dad has already told you about it, I won't go into all of the details." Sharon smiled at her mother. "I do think that… it was probably time that some of those things were said. I understand that he worries, but it's okay. He doesn't have to. You can tell him that."

"I'm not going to tell him anything of the sort." Karen finished turning the bacon and moved her attention back to the eggs. "You know better than to suggest it. We worry about our kids, it's our job." She shook the fork at her daughter but she was smiling. "I'm not entirely sure what I was expecting when you told me about this Andy of yours. You didn't tell me everything."

At her mother's pointed look, Sharon sighed. "No, I didn't. It wasn't my place to tell you that, mom. It's his accomplishment, and he's worked very hard at it. Besides, it isn't how I think of him. It's just… something that is a part of him. It's not an issue for me. I wouldn't expect it to be an issue for anyone else either."

She was defensive. Karen smiled at that. She was willing to protect him. Karen chuckled quietly. "Sharon, I'm not attacking him. I think it's admirable. So does your father, although I'm sure he failed to mention that," she added, in a tone that was just a bit dry. "Mind your tone, young lady. I'm not your father, I have no problem taking a wooden spoon to that bottom. I don't care how old you think you are."

Her mother was shaking her fork at her again. Sharon fought the urge to smile. The corners of her mouth twitched with it, while her eyes sparkled. "Yes ma'am." She lifted her coffee cup and hid behind it for a moment. "You know everything else," she said after a moment. "Can that be enough?"

"No," Karen said. "I don't think that it can." She studied her girl for a moment. "I really think there's only one thing that I need to know. Does he make you happy?" They had discussed this before, but those conversations had taken place over a phone line, with hundreds of miles separating them. Now she could look at her girl, and gauge for herself the truth of her answer.

She looked away. She felt her cheeks color, fill with warmth. Sharon tugged her bottom lip between her teeth and studied the contents of her cup. That same warmth spread downward. It settled inside her, filled her chest. She couldn't fight the smile anymore and let it curve her lips. "In ways that I thought I was long past." Sharon exhaled quietly. "I gave up. I put all my attention on my kids and my career. I had friends, and I've had _friends._" Her mother knew about that too, and had, in fact, encouraged it. "After you turn forty you stop expecting to meet anyone that is going to make you want to… take a chance on sharing your heart again. After you turn fifty, you stop thinking about it completely. Especially when you're still married and untangling yourself from the mistakes that led you to be alone in the first place. At fifty-five, it is the last thing that you expect to have happen at all. Of course, at fifty-five I wasn't expecting to be divorced either." Sharon stopped, she shook her head. "I was already happy, mom. I didn't _need_ Andy in my life to make me happy. I _want_ him in my life, so that I can share what makes me happy."

"A simple yes or no would have sufficed." Karen smiled at her girl. She reached over and cupped her chin. She lifted her face a bit and studied the happy glint in her eyes. They sparkled. There was joy and laughter. She was completely alight with it, glowing in a way that she hadn't, not in a very long time. Not since her children were very young. "Good," she decided. It was all that she needed to know. She tapped her daughter's nose and turned her attention back to the stove. "Now get over here and help me with these eggs. Can't you see that my hands are full?"

Sharon laughed. She put her coffee down and stepped over to rejoin her. She nudged her mother gently. "Yes," she said. "He makes me happy." She stirred the eggs and watched them as they began to firm up. Her lips pursed. Sharon's eyes glittered. "He's also really good in—"

"Ah!" Karen reached over and smacked her daughter's hand with the fork again. Then she shook it at her. "Sharon Diane!" Karen shook her head. She stood beside her eldest girl and began to laugh. Her daughter was laughing too. When Sharon bumped into her again, she swatted at her hip.

They both stopped laughing at the creak and sound of movement over their heads. Their heads tilted. They listened as the sound moved toward the stairs. Sharon hummed. She lifted the skillet off the stove and pushed the eggs into the waiting bowl on the counter nearby. She turned away and placed the skillet in the sink, and then she walked over to the coffee maker. She pulled down a mug and filled it. She waited until he walked into the kitchen before she lifted it toward him. Andy liked his coffee black. He didn't like adding sugar or milk, and couldn't stand the idea of flavored lattes. Sharon smiled at him. He wore the deep red polo that she liked, tucked into a pair of crisp blue jeans. "Hi."

He grunted at her. He lifted the coffee and inhaled the rich aroma. Andy glanced toward her mother, who seemed busy at the stove. While he took that first sip of coffee, he slipped an arm around her and drew her close. He let the coffee warm his stomach and the caffeine settle into his system. He pressed a kiss against the side of her head before he drew away. "Morning," he said, feeling almost human after draining half the cup.

She chuckled quietly and lay a hand against his chest. Sharon rubbed gently before sliding away again. He was never very coherent first thing in the morning. He was accustomed to operating on little sleep, due to their work, but she still found it incredibly endearing that he could be reduced to monosyllabic patterns before he'd had his first cup of coffee. "Eggs and toast okay?" He was in a house full of happy carnivores. Sharon made a mental note to remind her mother that he was a vegetarian.

"Sounds great." Andy topped off his cup and moved over to stand out of their way. The coffee maker was the only appliance in the kitchen that she ever allowed him to touch when they were together. He leaned against the counter, and tucked one hand into his pocket while he worked his way, more slowly this time, through his coffee. His eyes tracked Sharon as she moved around the kitchen, retrieving items before her mother could ask for them and lending a hand where she was allowed. He smiled when her mother chased her away, and laughed out right to see her back away from having a wooden spoon shook at her.

She joined him at the counter with a huff. Sharon poked his side. "Hush you." She moved beneath his arm and settled against his side. She took his coffee cup when he offered it and took a sip. Hers was somewhere on the other side of the kitchen. She couldn't quite recall where she had set it. "Today is going to be more of a waiting game. I was thinking about going for a ride. How do you feel about horses?"

"They look really great in westerns," he told her. Andy shook his head. "Never been on one. City boy, remember?"

"Hm." Her lips pursed thoughtfully. "I think that's something that we're going to have to remedy."

"Save it for Rusty." He played with the ends of her hair. "I'm an old man."

"We'll see." She turned and leaned back against the counter beside him. Sharon passed the cup back into his hand and clasped her hands in front of her. She imagined that it would be rather interesting to get him on a horse. It would at least be a way to pass the time, while they waited for the coroner's report to come back. They would let Evelyn and Jacob take care of Danny. She knew that Ricky would help. It would be better if she kept her distance until she was needed again.

The defiant tilt to her chin and the stubborn glint in her eyes made him grin. "Yes we will." Andy would remind her later that he had a couple of years on her, and that breaking a hip at their age was not what he had in mind for finding more ways to spend time together.

"Sharon stop picking on Andrew," her mother stated. "Get over here and set the table for breakfast." She shot a look at her girl, just in time to see her roll her eyes. "I saw that."

Sharon pushed away from the counter and walked over to pull down enough plates for the number of people that were staying at the house currently. The sound of his deep, rumbling laugh followed her. She made a face at him as she moved over to the old oak, butcher block table. While she was moving around it, setting out plates, she found the stack lifted out of her hands. Sharon glanced up and smiled at him. She let Andy take the plates and retrieved the cutlery. They worked in silence for several moments. When the table was mostly set, she moved around him. "Definitely going to see about that," she muttered.

"Shh." He tugged on a lock of her hair. "Your mother is watching. You heard her, stop picking on me." Her eyes narrowed and he flashed a crooked grin at her.

Karen rolled her eyes at the pair of them. It was on the tip of her tongue to remind them to act their ages, but she supposed that they were. There was something about being in love that brought out the youngster in all of them from time to time. She directed them around her kitchen, and when her daughter looked panicked at the thought of his making toast, she got Andy busy squeezing out a fresh pitcher of orange juice instead. She was reminded of a conversation she had with her daughter some months ago; it seemed he could barely manage a microwave, much less a stove. She would keep that in mind, there would be no mishaps in her kitchen.

The mood shifted as others joined them. It became more somber. The conversations were muted. Daniel looked drawn, and there were circles beginning to show beneath his eyes from the sleep he lost over the course of the last several days. He wasn't particularly hungry but his mother had urged him to join them for breakfast. He sat, pushing food around on his plate, and not really eating. He spoke when he was prompted to, but preferred to remain quiet. At the first opportunity, he rose and made good his exit.

Evelyn sighed. "Daniel…"

"Let him go." Karen shook her head at her youngest daughter. "Don't hover over the boy, Evelyn. He's hurting, and he needs to feel it. It's best that you let him."

"That's not exactly easy in practice, mother." Evelyn stood up and carried her plate to the sink. She topped off her coffee and stood leaning against the counter. "He insists that he was in love with that girl, but honestly…"

"_That girl_?" Sharon arched a brow at her sister. "She had a name, Evie." She sighed quietly at the disdain that she detected in her sister's tone. "That attitude is exactly the reason that they quarreled a few weeks ago. I can appreciate that you may not have agreed with his choices, but Danny cared a great deal for Denise. He isn't over that yet, and the last thing that he needs to hear—"

"Experienced with that, aren't you?" Evelyn fixed her sister with a pointed look. "Wrong choices, difficult partners. Jack was a deadbeat, and yet, no one ever blamed _you_ for his mistakes. Your husband walked out on you, Sharon. He didn't go traipsing around like an idiot, and—"

"Evelyn." Richard sat at the head of the breakfast table. He fixed his daughter with a hard, pointed look. "I think that's quite enough. Whatever you may have thought of Miss Matthews, and however it occurred, her end was tragic and untimely. You will keep a civil tongue, and you will remember that we do not speak ill of the dead in this house. Keep your opinions about Miss Matthews to yourself."

She sighed. Evelyn reached up and pinched the bridge of her nose. She nodded quietly. "Yes, of course. You're right. I'm sorry." After a moment she dropped her hand and rolled her shoulders. "I'm worried about him," she said. "Danny has never been especially quiet, but he just isn't speaking. Denise was not a fortunate choice, but she was a good girl." She tucked a lock of dark hair behind her ear, unlike her sister she kept it cut short, in a fashionable bob. "I'm sorry, Ricky, that was unkind." Her opinions of Jack were not that different from the rest of the family, but they had always strived very hard to not express them in front of the children.

"No." Ricky shrugged. He studied his coffee cup as he turned it on the table in front of him. He glanced at his mother beside him before he sighed and looked up at his aunt. "You're not wrong. He's an ass."

"Richard." Sharon lay a hand on his arm. She shook her head at him. Whatever her thoughts of her ex-husband and his mistakes, his recent loss of sobriety, or the fact that he had never been especially reliable, she had not raised her children to speak in disrespect of either of their parents. Her hand stroked down his arm, she gave it a comforting squeeze before she drew away. "None of us are infallible. We've all made mistakes. Denise and Daniel's relationship isn't for us to discuss or even to try and understand. He said he loved her and I believe him. That's all that I need to know about it. He's going to grieve. The questionable circumstances regarding her death have made it harder. Mom's right, Evie, he's going to need space."

"Hm." Evelyn snorted at her. "Tell me something, just how good are you at giving yours space, Sharon?" Her brows lifted, while a small, knowing smile, curved her lips.

"Oh, I'm terrible at it." Sharon admitted. "All three of them will tell you that. The fact still remains, it's what he needs."

Beside her, Ricky was nodding vigorously. When his mother poked his side, he smirked. He nudged her shoulder before returning his attention to the others. He sobered a bit and the smile faded. "Aunt Evie, I promise, Danny is okay. We talked a little bit last night. It's the not knowing, more than anything. I know that he'll talk to you when he's ready, but right now, he just can't get his head around it."

"I suppose." Evelyn shook her head. "I'm glad that you're here. You boys always were thicker than thieves."

"Whose fault is that?" Ricky stood up and lifted his plate. He cast a questioning look at his mother, and when she nodded, he gathered hers as well. "The two of you put us together from the cradle, we can't be held responsible for anything that happened after that."

Sharon raised her hand slowly. "My car?" She cast a pointed look at her son. "I don't seem to remember having _told_ you to take it out in the middle of the night and total it."

"Or lie about who was driving." Evelyn arched a brow at him. At his surprised look, she folded her arms over her chest. "Oh yes, he finally came clean, Richard William. Lying for your cousin won't get you anywhere, just you remember that," she shook her finger at him.

Still in his seat at the head of the table, Richard senior leaned forward. He rested his elbows against the table and watched as his grandson went around the table, helping to clear away the dishes. "Daniel was driving?"

Ricky winced. "Well, you see, granddad, what happened was…"

"Nothing good ever comes of a sentence starting with that statement." Andy leaned back in his chair. "Trust me, I've used it." He hooked a thumb at Sharon, who was seated between himself and where Ricky had been.

Sharon bowed her head and chuckled quietly. "The stories I could tell…" She cast a look at him, eyes sparkling. "In Ricky's case, he and his cousin decided that it would be a good idea to go joyriding in the middle of the night."

"We were hungry," Ricky said. "There was nothing in the house to eat. Mom just came off a thirty-six hour rotation. I wasn't going to wake her up…"

"Mmhm." Sharon shook her head at him. "I admire your tenacity for sticking to that story." She looked at Andy who was not familiar with that incident. "When they were seventeen, Ricky and Danny snuck my car out in the middle of the night. It was summer, and Danny was staying with us, as he did every summer." She waved a hand between them. "He would spend part of the summer with us, and then I would send Ricky home with him for part of it. Anyway, I did end up being awakened in the middle of the night. Ricky called me. He and Danny managed to wreck the car. No one was seriously hurt. Of course, I was panicked."

"Naturally," his brows lifted. What parent wouldn't be seriously upset by the idea of their child being involved in a serious car accident. "What happened?"

"They had gone joy riding, up in the hills. They rolled it." Sharon drew a breath and let it out slowly. "When I arrived, Danny had a bump on his head and Ricky's arm was cut. The boys were taken to the ER for treatment, but neither had been drinking, and their tox-screens were clear. Patrol released them into my custody, and that was it. Later, I was a little confused. Ricky said that he was driving, and that was in the official accident report. What I couldn't understand, from looking at pictures of the scene and the car, was how Ricky had the cut arm. There was no broken glass on the driver's side, but the passenger side window was busted. Also, I couldn't quite figure out how Danny had the bump on his head, when it was the driver's side roof that was caved in."

"What Danny failed to mention to his aunt, was that when he got home that summer, his dad and I were taking him shopping. For a car." Evelyn explained. She looked at her husband, who shook his head and laughed. "We didn't do it when he turned sixteen because we wanted him to be a little more responsible."

"We decided that he'd had a good year, his grades were good," Jacob said. "So Danny was going to start his senior year of high school behind the wheel of a shiny new car."

"It turns out," Evelyn said, "the boys cooked up the story they told everyone because Danny was terrified that he wouldn't get the car, and would spend several months grounded if we knew that he had wrecked his aunt's car."

"So instead," Sharon stated, "Ricky was grounded. He was getting a car for graduation, so he didn't lose anything, but he did spend the rest of the summer grounded." Her brows lifted as she looked at her son. "Which he would have been, regardless of who they told me was driving, for _sneaking out_."

Ricky hung his head. He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. When he looked up again, he peered at his mother through his lashes. "I'm sorry?"

"I think you're going to have to do a lot better than that," his grandfather said. Richard shook his head. "You lied to your mother." He pointed a finger at his grandson. "Your intention might have been good, but no one made Daniel drive. He should have faced the consequences of his actions."

He offered a sheepish smile. "I'm really sorry?" Ricky shrugged. "Okay, so it wasn't the smartest thing that either of us ever did, but it seemed like a good idea at the time."

"That one never works, especially on your mother." Andy lifted his coffee cup and drained the last of it.

"He would know." Sharon stood and took both of their cups to the sink, when Andy indicated that he'd had enough. She moved to lean against the counter, near her sister and folded her arms across her chest.

Evelyn studied her sister for a moment. "How long do you think this is going to take?" Her question brought them back to the matter at hand. "When will we have some kind of resolution from the coroner's office?"

"It's really dependent on caseload," Sharon explained. "In a county this small, I would expect any deaths involving foul play or even _possible_ foul play to take precedence as being emergent. More than likely the county moved this one to the head of the line. If we were in Los Angeles, you'd probably have to wait longer. I think we'll hear something by the end of the day, at least as far as preliminary results are concerned. Any of the more in-depth testing will take time, and I can't speak to local facilities. They may need to send samples into Portland for testing." Sharon exhaled quietly. "The coroner's preliminary report _should_ be able to rule out foul play."

"They'll use the pathology lab down in Bend," Jacob said. "It's pretty advanced." He shrugged at his sister-in-law, "For being this far away from civilization."

"Touché." Sharon offered a small smile.

"Should be able to?" Evelyn studied her. "If the preliminary report doesn't clear Danny, what does that mean?"

"It means we should wait," Sharon told her. "Evelyn, every case is different. I haven't seen Denise. I don't know what shape she was in when she was found. It could take some time to catalogue everything." She had been on the mountain for days, and it would be dependent upon whether or not the animals had already gotten to her. "I know it isn't easy, but I'm afraid that telling you to wait is all that I have for you."

"It's Danny that I'm worried about," she said gently. "He's not going to be able to really grieve and start to move past this until it's over. It's like he's in limbo right now, waiting for this investigation to be closed."

"I know." Sharon reached out and circled her wrist. She held on for a moment. "It may get worse before it gets better, but I promise, this can't last much longer. Let's wait for the coroner's report. We'll know more about what to expect after that. Okay?"

"I guess we don't have much choice in it." Evelyn glanced at her watch. "I have some calls to make. I need to check in with my assistant." She glanced around the kitchen. "Mom, I'll finish clearing up."

"I've got it." Jacob pushed up from the table. "Go and call Jessica. Make sure she hasn't scared any of your clients off." He smirked knowingly at his wife as he began gathering dishes. After speaking with her office, she would want to check on Daniel, and then she would want to call their younger children. They had three girls. One of them was at Georgetown, and the other Boston University. Their youngest was a senior in high school, but she was attending a private academy in Portland. Jacob doubted very much that Evelyn would make it back to the kitchen soon.

"I'll help," Ricky announced. "I'll wash if you clear." He pushed his sleeves up and moved over to the sink.

"You're on kid." Jacob carried a stack of dishes over.

"I'll dry." Sharon picked up a dishtowel, but frowned when it was tugged out of her hands. "Richard."

"Go." Ricky nudged his mother. "We can take care of this. You helped make breakfast. Cooks don't clean, Gram's rules. Besides, I know you're itching to get out to the stable. I'm surprised you lasted this long. It's okay." Ricky nudged her again. "Go on."

Her eyes narrowed. "Bossy." A smile played at her lips.

Ricky shrugged. "I come by it naturally."

"Hm." She reached up and ruffled his hair. "Yes, I think you do." Sharon leaned close to him. "I have my phone," she said quietly. "Call me if there's news."

"I will," he promised. Ricky made a face at her and reached up to smooth down his hair. "Don't mess with the 'do."

"We'll talk." Sharon walked past him toward the double doors that led out onto the porch. She stopped a few steps away and turned. "I did want to talk to you about something. Find me when you're done?"

Ricky's brows rose in askance. "Sure. This shouldn't take me long."

Andy stood as Sharon made her way toward the doors. "I'm not riding," he told her, when she indicated that he should join her.

She only smiled. "We'll see."

"It's not going to happen, Sharon. I've lived this long without sitting on a horse." He nodded to her parents as they left the kitchen.

"I am willing to allow you to negotiate," she said.

Jacob gathered the last of the coffee mugs from the table and carried them over. He shared a look with Ricky. "How much are we willing to bet she gets him on a horse?"

"Nope." Ricky smirked. "Trust me, mom may have actually gotten involved with the one person on this planet that is more stubborn than she is."

Richard senior drummed his fingers against the top of the table. He considered that for a moment. Finally, he nodded his head and pulled his body out of his chair. "Michael has been wanting to talk to me about that new Bay gelding he picked up over in Salem. I think now is as good a time as any."

Karen snorted a laugh. "You leave her alone, Richard. Do not go out there just to poke at her." She shook a finger at him. "Sharon can handle herself just fine without your interfering."

"Now honey," He sighed, "I'm not going to poke at the girl… but this is simply one phenomenon that I have to see for myself."

As he let himself out onto the porch, Karen rolled her eyes. "She is her father's daughter," she muttered. There was no denying that. Those two were cut from the same cloth. It was no wonder to her that they tangled as often as they did. Karen shook her head as she stood up from the table. She walked over and lifted the dishtowel. "I'll dry," she told them.

"I've got this Gram," Ricky smiled down at her. "Maybe you should go keep an eye on Granddad."

"Your granddad can get himself into trouble just fine without my help, especially where your mother is concerned." She tapped his arm and held out a hand for the plate that he was washing. "Now then, I said I would dry, and I meant it. Do I look as if I am incapable to you, Richard William?"

"No ma'am." His dark eyes sparkled. "Absolutely not." He handed her the plate and reached for another.

"That's my boy," she said with a nod. While Karen dried the dishes as they were handed to her, she considered the trouble that was hanging over their heads. There were still a lot of unanswered questions, but sitting around idle wasn't going to get them answered anytime soon. It was tragic, there was no getting around it. Until they knew more, their hands were tied. She would like to reach out to the young woman's family, but that was ill-advised at present. Karen sighed again. There was nothing for it. Instead, she chose to turn her mind to something else. "So, tell me," she began. "Who is this boy that our Emily is dating… and does your mother know?"

"Ah, but Gram…" Ricky smiled down at her. "The more appropriate question is, does mom know that she moved in with him?"

Karen smiled. She could alway count on her boy to keep her up to date on the happenings with the grandkids. "Now isn't that going to be an interesting conversation…"

**-TBC-**


	7. Chapter 7

**Home and Hearts Aflame**

**by Kadi  
Rated: T**

**Disclaimer: **I do love this sandbox, but sadly it is not mine.

* * *

**Chapter 7**

Before leaving the house to catch up with his mother, Ricky tracked Daniel down. He wanted to check on his cousin, and found that his mood hadn't changed much. Ricky didn't expect that it would. Daniel was going through hell at the moment, and nothing was going to change that. It might get better, marginally, over time, but nothing would ever _fix_ it. That was always the hardest part of seeing someone you cared about hurting, there was nothing that you could do to really make it right again.

Ricky used to try doing that with his mom. He tried running interference between her and his dad, and thought that maybe, if his mom didn't know just how bad things were... or if his dad didn't know just how great life was, neither of them would be hurt by what they didn't know. Emily did it too, and as he got older, he was beginning to realize that maybe it wasn't the best way to do things. What did it really solve? All it had done, time and again, was just delay the inevitable. The most recent incident was proof enough of that. In the end, his mom had found out that his dad was drinking again, and with that revelation, he and Emily had to fess up that they had already known about it. The worst part about all of it was, she was hurt that they had kept it from her. Ricky thought that maybe she was more hurt that they thought they _had_ to keep it from her.

Rusty was right. He had to give the little brother that much. Their mom could handle a lot, and it wasn't that he and Emily believed she couldn't. They just thought, however wrongly, that it was time she didn't have to. Hadn't their dad hurt her enough over the years? She was finally free of him, she should be able to live her life without being affected by his actions and behavior. Only, as she explained, she would never _truly_ be free of Jack. They would always be connected through their children, and no matter how it ended, she had loved him once. There was a time when she had loved him beyond sense and reason, and while that had faded over time, while his addictions and his absences, and all of the disappointments had chipped away at that love until all that was left was regret and pity, there was a part of her that would always care about him. She would always want better for him, both as a person and as the father of her children.

They weren't protecting her by hiding the truth. He was her husband long before he was their father. The marriage might have ended, but some connections could not be completely severed. Ricky was keeping all of that in mind while he watched his cousin cope with his grief. He couldn't make it better, but he was figuring out how to make just being there enough.

Daniel wanted to be alone, but promised he would come down and join the rest of the family soon. It wasn't as if he wasn't being continuously checked on. His mother was doing a good job of making sure that he wasn't alone for too awfully long. Ricky decided to give him a break. They'd catch up later and talk, when his aunt was otherwise occupied.

Ricky walked out to the stable and training yard behind the house. He knew, without having to give it too much thought that it was exactly where he would find his mother. As he neared the wooden fence that circled the yard, he spotted his grandfather leaning against it, gesturing as he spoke to the man beside him. Ricky joined them there, and rested his arms against the top of the fence, which was just high enough to reach him at chest level. "Didn't manage to talk you into it, did she?"

There were shades covering his eyes, but Andy grinned at the young man beside him. "Nope. In her defense, she didn't try very hard." He gazed across the training yard, to where Sharon stood talking to her brother. There was a saddled, chestnut gelding beside her. The horse was young, and the owner had expressed dismay that his training wasn't coming along as well as it should. Michael wanted Sharon to put him through his paces, since he thought she would have a better feel of it than he would. When he bought half interest in the horse, the trainer had come with him, and that employment was only on a probationary period. Michael wanted to know if the guy was worth what he was paying him.

The stable hands were putting up fences now, but Sharon was still discussing with Michael whether or not she intended to jump him. It had been too long, and she was out of practice. It had been five years, at least, since the last time she was home. Show jumping was like any sport, she explained, without regular practice you could get hurt.

"Your uncle showed her a shiny new toy," Richard said. "It distracted her." He nodded to the gelding. It was a beautiful animal, with good lines, and a fine form. She had given up on trying to convince her Lieutenant to get into a saddle almost the moment that she had seen him. "She'll take him through the motions," he continued, explaining the process for Andy. "If she feels comfortable with him, she'll jump him on one of the small fences. That will give her a feel of him, and it will give her some idea of whether or not we're wasting our time."

"Uncle Mike won't jump anymore," Ricky said. "He was working with a horse a few years ago, it scratched, and he got tossed forward. He fell into the fence, broke a couple of ribs. Aunt Susan told him if she caught him jumping again, she'd skin him alive. Of course," a grin tugged at his lips, and he slanted a look at the men beside him, "after a certain age, it's completely understandable."

Andy pushed his shades up so that he could glare at him. "Watch it, kid."

"Mind that mouth," Richard said.

Ricky continued to grin, and lifted his foot to rest against the bottom most rail of the fence. "Just trying to make a point. My mother always told me it was best to be as factual as possible."

"We'll see what she has to say about that," Andy said. "I think questions of her age may go along with her _ever so lonely heart_." He smirked at the look that earned him. "Yep, she told me. So like I said, watch it kid." He squinted behind his shades and watched Sharon walk around beside the horse. While Michael held the prancing animal, she swung up and into the saddle. It took another minute or two, while she got situated, comfortable in the seat, while Michael adjusted her stirrups for her. When her brother stepped back, and the animal continued to prance nervously beneath a new rider, he shook his head. "I still say they look better in westerns."

"City boy." Ricky laughed. He was no better, but he had at least had the exposure of having spent summers and holidays on the ranch. He could ride. So could Emily. They had just never felt as strongly about it as their mother had. They'd had other interests, and she had supported those.

"Yes." Andy grinned. "Proud of it too." It was nerve wracking, however, to watch her sitting atop an animal that was so much larger than she was. He continued to prance, and that just made Andy want to fidget where he stood. He sighed quietly and shook his head. "She enjoys this?"

Richard chuckled. He knew his girl. She was giving the animal a moment to get a feel for her. She would let him act a fool, and then she would rein him in. "Since she was about three." He wasn't wearing the fancy sunglasses that the Lieutenant had on. Instead, Richard had grabbed an old ball cap before coming out into the sun. He tipped it back a bit and gestured with his other hand toward the training yard. "She might be a little out of practice, but she knows what she's doing. Give it a minute. He's a young thing, and she's new. He wants to show off a little bit."

He was prancing sideways, toward the center of the ring. Ricky grinned, that was his mother putting space between them and the fence. "See," he pointed when the horse stopped. His front hooves bounced against the dirt, once and then twice. He slanted a sideways look and almost laughed again. The poor guy looked nervous as hell. Ricky shook his head. "Right now, he's trying to see how much she's going to let him get away with. Not much. In there or out here, she's always in charge," he said drily.

The horse settled down, but was tossing his head. "He wants her to give him his lead," Richard explained. "That's not going to happen." Instead, Sharon turned him in the opposite direction and began walking him around the training yard. "Now it's her turn. She's going to get used to him. Every horse feels a little different. It's like watching a person walk." She let his pace increase and she took him into a gentle trot. While they watched, she re-situated herself in the saddle, got comfortable with the horse's gait. "Now she's going to put him through his paces."

They circled the ring, moving around the fences, taking the course but not jumping it. To one side, there was a trio of short fences set up. Those were the ones she intended to jump. Andy realized that as she began doing it. His jaw clenched. They were small, barely a foot high. He shook his head. The horse could have stepped over them, but she had jumped them. "Michael said she stopped competing when she went to college?" That was not exactly what her brother said, but Andy figured that was a safer topic of conversation.

"There wasn't time to train with her only home for a handful of weeks during the summer," Richard said. "She used to spend hours out here. She'd be up before breakfast, spend a couple of hours training before school. Then in the afternoons, she'd come in and be out here until supper. If it weren't for having to study, she'd have had us put in the arena lights back then." He nodded to the tall lights that circled the yard. They'd only been added in the last decade.

"I'm surprised she doesn't…" Andy stopped talking. His jaw dropped a bit and he thought he felt his heart, literally, leap out of his chest. "God almighty!" She had turned with the animal and, without any warning, they had leaped over one of the tall, show fences. They landed solidly on the other side, and he had to admit, she made it look effortless, but he wasn't expecting to _see it_.

Ricky bowed his head. His shoulders shook with laughter. He knew she was going to jump when the horse's tempo increased. She picked up speed going into the jump. "You know," he said, "She _has_ done this before."

Andy cut a look at him. "Maybe." He sniffed. "Hell, we're old." He didn't need her falling off some damned horse in Nowhere, Oregon because she had gotten it into her head that she was sixteen again.

"Now you know how _we_ feel when the two of you go strapping on guns so you can play Eastwood with the _dirtbags_ in LA." Ricky's dark eyes sparkled. "Relax. Mom knows what she's doing."

"Doesn't look like she's having any trouble out of him," Richard remarked. "The trainer didn't think so either, but the young woman that's been riding him isn't happy with his performance." His head inclined. A smile played at his lips. She was going to take the whole course. How long had it been since he'd seen that? _Old_, maybe. They were all _old_, but with the exception of a few issues with her technique that spoke of too little training in the last couple of decades, she was riding like she had never stopped. Richard nodded. His hand tapped against the wooden fence rail. "Looks like he's got a good feel for it."

When Andy looked at him, Ricky shrugged. "Don't look at me. Mom taught us how to ride, she never showed us how to jump."

"Look at his reins," Richard said. He pointed for both of them. "She's let up on them a bit. She's going to let him go. That means he's got it. She's guiding him, and she'll pull him up if she needs to, but right now she's just along for the ride. That's a good sign." He looked over at them. Both men looked clueless. Richard laughed. "City boys." He shook his head and lifted a hand to wave his son over. He wanted a word with Michael.

She hadn't intended to do more than take the animal through a few of the shorter practice fences. He responded well and he seemed to have a good feel of the mechanics. Sharon turned him into one of the taller fences to see how he would react. She only thought to take the one. It was training, or perhaps a bit of instinct, that had the horse pulling toward the course. Taking him through the full layout was the last thing on her mind when she mounted, but there was a moment. It happened in the space of a second, and barely that. It was in the time that stretched between one heartbeat and the next. It was in the feel of muscles rippling beneath your thighs, and the steady breaths that came between hoofbeats. There was a feeling, and it went beyond exhilaration. It was the thrill and anxiety of not knowing what lay between this moment and the next. It was in the lunge of the animal beneath her. She rose up and forward, allowed her body to stretch and form to that of the gelding as he made the leap. Her heart dropped into her stomach as, for only the tiniest space of time, both of them were airborne. The jolt of the horses front hooves against the soft sod of the training arena brought body and mind back to earth again, but the surge of adrenaline was not so easily contained.

She felt the strain of muscles that had gone unused for far too long. It burned along her legs and lower back. That was a feeling that she could ignore. The rush of wind in her ears was replaced with quiet, and all she could hear was the rhythmic beating of hooves against dirt, while the moments between were filled with the sounds of his breaths and her heart. They made the turn, and she gave him his lead. She let his tempo increase, and while she knew she would regret it later, they made their way around the course. The gelding took the fences as if they were little more than lines in the sand. She decided that an evening spent soaking sore muscles in a hot bath would be worth _this_. She had forgotten it. This feeling. What it was to really soar, and how much she had enjoyed it.

Her body was burning, aching as she rode the horse over toward the side fence. She circled the ring, walked him in a cool down lap, and finally came to a stop where Michael stood with her father, son, and Andy. "What do they want?" Sharon's attention was focused on her brother. "You said the other owner didn't like his progress. What are they asking for?"

"Buy out." Michael was leaning against the fence. He reached out with one hand and ran it along gelding's gleaming coat. "I don't want to be stuck with an animal that I can't do anything with. He's not a work horse. Doesn't look like he's having any problems to me."

"No, he really isn't." Sharon stroked the animal's neck. "He's got it, Michael. It sounds to me like the whining of an inexperienced rider, or someone who didn't realize the expense and responsibility they were taking on." She thought about it, for only a moment. She reached up and swept a loose tendril of hair out of her face. "Take the buy out. Get back what you paid for him, and then I'll double it."

"What are you going to do with a horse?" Andy arched a brow at her. He tipped his shades up again. "Sharon, you spend most of your time in LA. What's he going to do? Live on your balcony?"

"I can stable him in LA." Sharon nudged the horse forward, clicked her tongue. "Take the buyout Michael."

"Sharon, you don't even compete anymore," Michael called after her. "If you think he's good enough, he should be competing."

"I want him," she said.

Michael opened his mouth again, but stopped. He shook his head. "Hope you know how to pull a trailer." He pushed away from the fence. "Looks like you're going to be driving home," he told Andy.

"So…" Ricky's head inclined. "Let me see if I understand. Emily asked for a pony and got a doll. I asked for a pony and she bought me legos. Rusty doesn't ask for a pony, and she gets a pony." He blinked. "How is that in any way fair?"

His grandfather snorted a laugh. Richard pushed away from the fence. As he walked past him, he slapped Ricky on the back. "He's the youngest."

Andy continued to watch Sharon take the gelding through the course again. "That's all well and good, but I'm still stuck on, what the hell are we going to do with a horse in LA?"

"Learn how to ride," Richard said. He walked away laughing. "Learn how to ride, city boy."

He let his shades fall back into place to cover his eyes. Andy continued to frown. "She's being impulsive." He looked at Ricky. "She's never impulsive."

"it's a little disturbing," he agreed. "Is this a midlife crisis thing? Instead of getting a younger man, she got a younger horse?" Ricky shook his head slowly. "Wait, no, I still don't get it."

"Exactly." Andy pushed away from the fence. He began striding around the arena toward the gate. "Sharon!" He called out and waved her over. He waited for her to dismount and walk over. She turned the horse over to one of the stablehands and joined him at the gate. "Okay," he began carefully. He worked up the argument in his head while he waited. Andy took a deep breath. "He's a nice horse," he said. "But Sharon…"

She folded her arms across her chest. Her legs and back were aching. Her lips pursed. She hummed thoughtfully. "I work long hours, and he's going to require a lot of attention." She nodded. "Yes, I know that." Sharon sighed. "Andy, I don't intend to continue working indefinitely. At some point in the near future I'm going to want to retire. Stabling a horse in Los Angeles is expensive, I know, but I haven't lost my mind." Her green eyes sparkled. His confusion was a bit endearing. She decided to take pity on him. "I'll spend a little while enjoying him on weekends, and then someone who is interested in competing is going to get a look at him. They'll pay far more than I'm giving Michael, and in Los Angeles, he's going to get the exposure that an animal like _that_ deserves." She pressed her lips together and fought the urge to laugh at him. "It's sweet that you were worried about my intentions."

Andy's hands found his hips. His eyes narrowed behind his shades. "So, what you're telling me is… you're going to buy a horse so that you can turn around and sell him in LA?"

"Eventually, yes." She laughed. "Andy, I don't have the time to devote to an animal like this full time. With the right training, and the right rider, he's going to go pretty far." Sharon reached out and lay a hand against his chest. "I had forgotten how much I loved it, but I am way past this kind of riding. I already hurt all over. No, I'm not going to keep him. I'd like to, but I'm not. He doesn't belong here." She took a step closer and leaned up to brush her lips against his jaw. "Give me a few more minutes with him, and then I'll saddle a couple of the quarter horses. If you won't go riding with me, I'll take Ricky. I want to talk to him anyway."

He sighed. Andy nodded, feeling better about the situation. It was almost worth it to let her talk him onto a horse if he didn't have to watch her doing the jumping thing anymore. That was playing hell on his nerves. She might know what she was doing, and she might make it look easy, but with what Ricky said about his uncle getting hurt… well, he decided that he didn't have to _like_ it. "I'll let Ricky know."

Sharon laughed again. "Alright. Ten minutes," she said. As she turned to walk back into the training yard, she resolved that she would get him on a horse sometime. Perhaps not this trip, but eventually, it was going to happen.

Ricky waited at a distance. He leaned back from the fence when Andy finally rejoined him. "Well?"

He shrugged. "She misses competing." Andy swept a hand over his hair. "Hell if I understand her half the time. I'll talk to her about it again when we get back to the city. Maybe she'll see reason." Andy suppressed the urge to grin. "She said to give her ten minutes. She's going to saddle a couple of horses so the two of you can take a ride." He started walking back toward the house. "I need to call and check in at the office." Once his back was to Ricky, Andy allowed himself to smirk. That would teach him to make wisecracks about their ages. Midlife crisis indeed.

"Wait. What?" Ricky watched him leave. He was left standing there, jaw slightly agape. His eyes narrowed when reason caught up and outweighed the shock. "Funny," he called out. "Very funny." Ricky walked around toward the stable. He would get the horses ready to go out. While he was at it, he'd think of a way to get even with the older man. Maybe it was time to get together with the uncles and have that _what are your intentions_ talk after all.

Ten minutes actually turned into almost half an hour. Ricky led a pair of quarter horses out into the yard. He waited to one side, mostly amused as his mother stood talking to his uncle. Finally, she approached. He held out the reins to the smaller of the two horses. "Your city boy booked it for the house," he said.

Sharon rolled her eyes at him. "Mind your manners, Richard." They led the horses farther away from the yard before either of them mounted. Sharon pointed them in the direction of the south meadow. She waited until they were well away from the activity around the house, and headed toward the tree line, before she glanced at her son. "How was Danny?"

"He's hanging in there." Ricky squinted against the sunlight and wished he'd thought to grab a pair of shades or a ball cap. "Aunt Evie isn't really giving him any breathing room. He's going to get frustrated before he gets too upset. He's not ready to talk yet." He looked over at her. "Can you talk to her?"

"I'll talk to mother." Sharon shook her head. "She's really the only one that Evie is going to want to listen to right now. I can't ask her to back off, Ricky. Not when I can't say I would be willing to do the same." Sharon smiled at him, but there was sadness in it. "I know what it is to see my child hurting and afraid. I can't ask her to step away from that, even to give him more space. It's a difficult thing."

He knew that she was talking about Rusty. Ricky sighed. "I know, mom. It's just… we're sliding out of _hovering_ and getting pretty close to _pushing_. You know I love Aunt Evie, but Danny isn't a kid. Look, I get it. To you all, we're always going to be the kids, but he's a guy that's just lost the girl that he thinks is the love of his life. Aunt Evie trying to get him to talk, or eat, or whatever, isn't going to fix that. It's not making it better."

"I understand. I will talk to your grandmother," she promised. "We'll get Danny the space that he needs." Sharon smiled at him, proud of how he was beginning to mature. She let her horse wonder closer, nudged his leg with hers. "It's good that he has you."

"Yeah, well," Ricky grinned. "All he's got are little sisters. What's a guy to do?" He let his gaze wonder back along the tree line as it stretched out in front of them. "You didn't want me to come out here so you could talk about Danny. What's going on?"

She hummed. "No, I didn't. He mentioned your trip to Italy." Sharon studied her son. "He said that you planned on taking someone with you…"

Ricky groaned. He rolled his eyes at her. "Mom, seriously?" He shook his head. "Okay, we'll go there. Yes, it was going to be a group trip. Danny and I have been talking about going back to Europe for years. I thought we'd backpack across Italy a little bit, you know, really check out Florence and a couple of other places this time." His brows rose, he decided to play with her a little bit. "I was going to take someone. Cute little blonde. Is that an issue?"

"No," she said at length. "You just hadn't mentioned it. You certainly haven't mentioned being close to anyone that you would be willing to take to Italy with you. A mother worries."

He laughed. "Well don't. I'm not seeing anyone. Not seriously anyway. It's Rusty, mom." Ricky shook his head. "I kept meaning to talk to you about it, but we've both been busy. Then Danny and Denise broke up, and it was kind of in the air. I thought we'd make it a guys trip instead, but then they got back together…" He shrugged as he trailed off. "I wanted to ask you about it before I asked Rusty," he clarified. "I mean, if you didn't think it was a good idea, I didn't want to get the kid's hopes up."

She stared at him, a little bit in disbelief. "Rusty?" Sharon blinked at him. "Ricky, you wanted to take your brother to Italy? For the summer?"

"Well, yeah." He drew up on the horse a bit when it wanted to prance around. "By the time I was his age, Emily and I had been to a couple of places with you. We went to London one year, and then there was that trip to Spain with Uncle Mike and Aunt Susan." They'd taken all the kids, and spent a couple of really fun weeks exploring Madrid and Barcelona, and then hanging out on the beach. "We've been to St. Thomas, I don't know how many times, over the years. Rusty hasn't really been anywhere. Not even to Mexico. I could take him to Cozumel, but come on, it's all party and no culture." Ricky inclined his head at her. "Didn't you tell me that he had none of the advantages, growing up, that I took for granted? It's a few weeks in Italy, and he'll be back before classes start. I guess…" Ricky hesitated. "If that's okay with you?"

Sharon was still staring at him. She realized that her eyes had grown moist. He was planning a summer vacation in Europe, with the cousin that happened to also be his best friend. Danny was the brother that Ricky would have preferred to have, and yet, his first thought had been to take his little brother along. Sharon drew her gaze away from him and shook her head. "No," she said thickly, "no that's fine. I think he'll like it." She swallowed past the lump in her throat and managed a warm smile for him. This was exactly the kind of normal that she wanted for Rusty, and it was the sort of relationship that she had hoped that her boys would develop some day. "It's a great idea, Ricky. I love it."

"Yeah?" He grinned, pleased by that. Ricky had worried she wouldn't like it, or would think it was too much. He knew that she spent a lot of time fretting over Rusty. He didn't know how she would react to the idea of his being thousands of miles and an entire ocean away. "Good." He nodded. "I'll ask him. Danny may not want to go now, and that's totally understandable. Maybe I'll see if Emily can get away for a few weeks. We can make it the three of us, and if not, it can be just us guys."

"I think that sounds perfect." She reached out and touched his arm. "Ricky, he may say no. Big gestures are… they're not easy for Rusty to wrap his mind around. He's learning, and he's come an incredibly long way. If he does say no, I don't want you to think that he isn't grateful, or that it has anything at all to do with you. Talk him through it, let him see that it's okay, but be patient?"

"I got it, Mom." Ricky smiled gently at her. At first he was worried about this situation, but having spent more time with Rusty, and having gotten to know him, he understood it. The kid had been hurt. He had some wounds that weren't quite healed. He was getting there, however, and it wasn't hard to see why or how his mom had gotten attached. "Look," He continued, "I screwed up last summer. That's on me, and I can't take it back. But I really think that we're okay now. We talked at Christmas, and we email and text all the time. I know he's still a little torqued at Emily and me about the whole dad situation, but we'll get over that too." He thought about it for a minute. "You know, mom, it's not like when Emily and I were growing up. You don't have the kind of time that you did then, and as hard as that was, basically being a single parent and building a career, you were still able to do things with us, and take us places. Rusty has never known any differently, except for the bad kind of different, so he doesn't expect those kinds of things. I know a lot of it was you overcompensating because dad wasn't around, and that's fine, Rusty isn't in that same situation. That doesn't change the fact that we had opportunities that you haven't been able to give him, and that's not your fault," he quickly added. "Things are just different now. So, you know, what's the good in having older siblings if they don't step up right? Little brother needs to see more of the world than California and I've got the time."

She was proud of the man he was becoming. There weren't really words that would allow her to express that. Instead, Sharon just smiled at him. "I adore you every day," she said. "Always know that. Whatever else happens, and if we quarrel, or get angry with one another, always know that I adore you, and I'm proud of you, Richard. You are always going to be my baby, nothing will ever change that."

"I know." Ricky grinned a little sheepishly at her. "_Now_ I know. I was a little slow on the uptake in the beginning. My head is buttoned back on straight now, so everything is computing the way that it's supposed to." He drew his horse up and turned it. He studied the meadow, and the house in the distance. "So tell me something," he said. "Did all that fancy jumping you did completely do you in, or do you have just one more round left in you."

"Hm." She drew up alongside him and stopped. Sharon's head tilted. "I think that depends entirely upon what you've got in mind."

Ricky arched a brow at her. "Race you back."

He took off before she could answer. She sighed. "Rotten child." Sharon decided to let him have the head start. He wasn't as experienced. That didn't mean that she was going to allow him to win.

As they rode into the yard behind the stables, practically at the same time, Sharon realized that her phone was vibrating in her pocket. They drew the animals to a trot, and finally a walk, while she checked her phone. It was a missed call from Andy, followed by a text.

_The deputies are here. They need to see you._

"Ricky," she was frowning as she dismounted. "Take the horses in for a cool down. I'll come back and help as soon as I can." She drew a breath and let it out slowly. "It looks like the coroner's report may be back. I need to go up to the house."

"Sure." He watched her walk away. "I'll meet you up there as soon as I can."

Sharon waved a hand in response. She kept walking. When she reached the house, she found them once again gathered in the parlor just off the foyer. There were only the two deputies present this time, Andrews and his partner. Her father and Andy were also there. Her gaze surveyed the room quickly. "Gentlemen, how can I help you?"

"Captain." Deputy Andrews nodded. "We had a few questions for you."

Her brows lifted in surprise. "For me?" Sharon shook her head at them. "Was this about the Denise Matthews case, or was there something else that you needed?"

"Our M.E. found something during the autopsy," Andrews said. "We thought you might be able to shed some light on it." He lifted a photocopy of a note, and waited until she had taken it. "You're the only _Sharon_ that we know in relation to the Matthews case."

That had her brows drawing together in a deep frown. She held the note, let her eyes sweep over it. The first line had her stomach twisting into tight knots.

_Dear Sharon_

Her jaw clenched. She had hoped she'd never have to see that again. Those words would always make her think of Wade Weller and how close she had come to losing Rusty. Sharon drew a thin breath and concentrated on the words on the page.

_Who is going to be next? _

It was a calling card. A warning. She felt her heart rate speed up. It thumped against her chest. The room seemed to grow warmer, smaller somehow. What happened on that mountain? Why was there a note to her on Denise Matthews's body?

_Yours most sincerely_

"Honestly, I just have one question about all of this." Deputy Andrews continued to speak. He looked at the others in the room, and finally fixed the Captain with a confused, but pointed scowl. "Who the hell is Phillip Stroh?"

**-TBC-**


	8. Chapter 8

**Home and Hearts Aflame**

**by Kadi  
Rated: T**

**Disclaimer: **I do love this sandbox, but sadly it is not mine.

**A/N:** I was going to hold off on posting this, for reasons I won't get into. If you follow me on twitter, you know why. Unfortunately, as it turns out, I cannot resist crying puppies. So much for my devious machinations. The girls responsible, know who they are. Ladies, enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 8**

_Phillip Stroh_

She was staring at the name. She wasn't hearing the voices around her. She wasn't hearing much of anything. There was a loud rushing in her ears. The voices around her were faint, as though from a distance. There was an echo, and it was like listening to them through a tunnel. She felt as if her mind had gone blank. There was nothing there. She was seeing words and hearing voices but she had lost the ability to comprehend any of it. There was only the loud noise in her ears, the burning in her chest, and the odd tingling in her fingertips.

It was a bit like rebooting one of Ricky's computers, or turning over the engine of a car that didn't want to start, but her mind began working again. Slowly, until she realized that the rushing in her ears was the sound of her own rapidly beating heart. The burning in her chest was because she had, it seemed, stopped breathing. She drew a thin breath, and felt it shudder through her. It ached as it pushed past the lump in her throat and stretched her straining lungs. There was a weight, a pressure on her shoulders. It increased and she took another breath. Sharon leaned back when she realized that it was hands, and felt the warmth of a solid male chest pressed against her back. Her eyes closed and she swallowed.

"Sharon."

She shook her head at the sound of his voice, soft and comforting against her ear. She passed the note back to him. Sharon stepped away from him and walked toward the side of the room. The others were still talking, asking questions. She held up a hand and ignored them while her numb fingers moved across her phone to find a familiar contact. There was very little that could provoke a response like this from her. This was not just any ordinary name. It was not simply losing a suspect. It was not a case that she could put aside and walk away from.

That man was a monster. He threatened her son. Tried to kill him, but thrice he failed. Now he was walking free, somewhere in the world, and it seemed he had not been content just to escape.

_Leave no witnesses_

She was reminded of that statement. It wasn't as if she could forget it. Those words were the reason that she had procured private security for her son. It was the reason she was chancing the idea that he may never forgive her. It was worth it to her to keep him safe. Now it seemed as if she was right to do it, not that she had doubted her reasons or her intentions.

Sharon held her phone to her ear while she waited for the call to connect. She drew a small breath and held it when it stopped ringing. There was a moment of silence, and then she heard his voice. Air left her lungs in a rush while a sense of relief settled over her. "Rusty."

"Sharon, hi..." He sounded hesitant. They had only just talked the night before. It had been a little more than twelve hours, and he missed her too, but Rusty had not expected her to call him again until later in the evening. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything is fine," she lied. "I was just thinking about you. I'm not sure that I'll be able to call you tonight. I wanted to do it now while I had a moment. Are you busy?"

"No." He still thought that she sounded odd. Rusty turned in his chair and leaned away from the table he was sharing with a couple of others. "I'm just at the coffee shop with some friends. I have History in half an hour, but I've got a few minutes." Rusty frowned. "Sharon, are you okay?"

"Hm." She hummed instead of speaking. Sharon pressed her fingers to her lips. It took her a moment to get her emotions under control enough that she could form the words that she wanted to say. "I'm fine, honey. I won't keep you." She only wanted to make sure that he was safe. "Enjoy your your time with your friends. We can speak later. If not, I'll call you in the morning."

"Sure." Rusty frowned. He wasn't convinced. He chewed on the corner of his lip. "I'll talk to you soon. Sharon..."

"Yes, Rusty?" Her heart was beating just a bit slower now. She could almost breathe without the tight burning in her chest.

He shook his head, despite the fact that she couldn't see it. He changed his mind at the last minute. Instead, he said, "I love you."

Her teeth sank into her bottom lip. "I love you too. Go have fun." Sharon disconnected the call before she could change her mind, before she could tell him to go to the airport and get on a plane. She reminded herself that he was safer in Los Angeles. Even if she wasn't there, he was protected. She exhaled quietly and turned. Her eyes found Andy. "He's okay."

"Yeah." He held up his own phone. "I called his security. They have eyes on him. They haven't seen anything unusual." Andy walked over to stand in front of her. He lay a hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Rusty is okay," he said. He pitched his voice low, speaking in a quiet, soothing tone. "Nothing is going to happen to him."

The deputies exchanged a look. That had certainly gotten them a reaction. Andrews placed his hands on his hips. "Captain," he drew her attention back to him. "Can you tell us who Phillip Stroh is and what he has to do with any of this?"

"We'd like to know why there was a note addressed to you on Denise Matthews's body," his partner added.

Sharon ignored them. Her attention was still on Andy. "What is he doing up here," she asked quietly. "How could he possibly know…" She didn't talk about her personal life with many people, and while it wasn't a secret, it wasn't as if Phillip Stroh would have had her personal history handy. "Learning where I'm from is easy enough, but putting together all of the pieces like this, right down to who my nephew was dating? That doesn't make sense."

"He had months, Sharon." Andy rubbed his thumb across his forehead. He sighed. "Hell, he had a year in County lockup before he got put into solitary. I'm guessing it wasn't just Rusty he was gathering information on. He was trading information with Weller; he could have been trading favors to any number of other people to put together a packet on you too."

Her eyes closed. Sharon sighed. "Not to mention the time he's had since his escape. Dammit." They spent all of their time worrying about Rusty, they never expected that Stroh would attempt to reach beyond him. _She_ never expected it.

"Captain." Andrews took a step forward. There was a steel edge in his tone. "We would like an explanation. Now would be preferable."

"What you can do is wait a damned minute." Andy scowled at him. His dark eyes glinted hotly. "You'll get your explanation when we're ready to give it to you."

"Andy." She rested a hand on his chest. Sharon shook her head slowly. "It's okay," she said quietly.

Richard watched him shoot another dark look at the two deputies, but he stood back. Emotion seemed to ripple, just beneath the surface, but he had a tight hold on it. Or at the very least, he appeared to. "I think we would all like to know what is going on," he stated, keeping his tone low, but commanding. His attention settled on his daughter. "How is the boy?" He knew that there had been some trouble. She wouldn't elaborate on it much. She tried to keep that part of her life away from them. She wouldn't worry them with it. They had heard some things, however, and they were not without the ability to pick up a newspaper, or use a search engine. Computers were not only for the young.

Sharon took a breath and let it out slowly. She straightened as she turned to face her father. "Rusty is okay. He was with his friends at the coffee shop on campus. His security," she gestured at Andy, who was standing just behind her left shoulder, "assures us that they haven't seen anything out of the ordinary." She folded her arms across her chest and stepped forward, nearer to the center of the room. "Which makes sense, if the threat is here." She glanced at Andy. "That's something that we will want to confirm."

"We'll need to see the evidence you've collected," he said. Andy crossed his arms. "We're going to want to look at the coroner's report too, talk to your M.E. if possible."

"If," Sharon began, "this note is legitimate," she accepted it back from Andy, "we'll have to put together a timeline to determine how long the suspect has been in the area, and if he is still here." Her gaze dropped and she studied it again. "Historically, Stroh doesn't leave notes behind on his victims. Given recent circumstances, it wouldn't be especially unreasonable to think he could step outside his M.O." She pressed her lips together and considered what and how much she could tell them. Sharon shook her head. "Phillip Stroh is a serial killer that was arrested in Los Angeles more than two years ago. He was awaiting trial when he escaped in January. My son, Rusty, is the only witness that can physically link him to his victims."

"Stroh has tried, more than once," Andy continued, "to kill Rusty. The first time was the night that Rusty stumbled onto him while he was burying his last victim."

"He hit Rusty in the head with a shovel and tossed him off a small cliff," Sharon stated. A small tremor ran down her spine as she recalled just how he had looked when they found him. Rusty's injuries were still very fresh as he stood in the interview room, reluctantly answering the questions that Chief Johnson threw at him. "The night that Phillip Stroh was arrested, he broke into the house of now retired Deputy Chief Johnson's home. She had been pursuing him for sometime, but was never quite able to link him to his crimes. Rusty was an underage runaway."

"Chief took him home, since we didn't really trust that he would stay in foster care," Andy said. "We had every reason to believe that the kid would run if we let DCFS place him."

"Mainly because he promised as much," Sharon said in a wry tone. "Stroh tried to kill both of them that night, but the Chief managed to subdue him. Rusty was injured, but not seriously. Shortly after, he came to stay with me. His witness status was tenuous at best. Rusty didn't trust the police; he didn't trust anyone," she added. "While Rusty was in my custody, and Stroh was awaiting trial, he began receiving letters. We thought that it was an intimidation tactic at first, but their threatening nature slowly escalated. What we eventually learned was that Phillip Stroh had been in contact with a young man he met years before, another serial killer who liked to target young boys. Runaways, orphans, boys much like Rusty. The young man's name was Wade Weller, and he came very close to killing Rusty."

"We got him in the end," Andy said, picking it up when her voice wavered and she stopped speaking. "He was shot while trying to avoid arrest and died. Stroh was placed in confinement. The County limited contact. He could speak to his lawyer, and that was about it. Then he fired his lawyer. Decided to represent himself."

"That gave him direct contact with the District Attorney's office." Sharon sighed. "Everything went precisely as he planned it. Phillip Stroh managed to orchestrate an escape in January of this year. He has only a single target that we're aware of."

"Rusty." Richard stared at his daughter. Her silent nod, and the pain behind it, had him swearing quietly. Whatever else he was, the boy was family.

"He's nineteen now," she said. "He can refuse protection. There's nothing that the department or the DA's office can do to force it upon him." Her jaw clenched, she fidgeted a bit where she stood, shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "I hired private security instead. Rusty doesn't know about it. They're shadowing him. The only thing that he's aware of are the new locks and the alarm system that I had installed at my condo." Because the deputies still looked mildly confused, Sharon looked directly at them. "I adopted Rusty."

Andrews frowned. He ran a hand over his face. "Okay, so what you're telling us is, some serial killer that you pissed off in Los Angeles is running around up here trying to settle a score?"

"Doubtful." Andy scoffed at him. "Stroh is… he's smart. He was always one step ahead of us. If not for Rusty being in the wrong place at the right time, he could have gone on for years. He's a scumbag, but he's a smart one. He's a lawyer, he knows how to work the system." He shook his head. "Rusty is protected in LA. He's got the private security that Sharon hired, and then our guys are keeping an eye on him too. I think it's probably a safe bet that he was trying to lure Rusty _out_ of the city." He lay a hand against Sharon's back. "He wanted our attention. Get Sharon up here, and the chances were pretty high that she'd bring Rusty with her. She didn't, but there was a chance she would." He drew her attention to him, looked down at her. His gaze softened. "He was counting on you to have the same reaction you had last time."

"Yes." She drew a breath. "I pulled Rusty out of class and he was glued to my side, or surrounded by officers twenty-four seven. He was sleeping at the station. With Stroh on the loose, he didn't expect that I would feel comfortable leaving Rusty in LA." The truth was, she hadn't. His classes were there, and so was his security. He was honestly safer in the city than he was with her. Difficult as it was to accept, she had. "Okay," she straightened again. "The first thing that we need to do is determine if the letter is legitimate. The best way we can do that is for you to get us whatever evidence you have, and we'll compare it to what we know about Phillip Stroh. Before I ring that bell, I want to know, without a doubt, that Denise Matthews was murdered by Stroh, and not just someone using a familial connection to divert attention."

"The fact that he left a letter," Andy explained. "That's not our guy's M.O."

"No it isn't," Sharon agreed. "But if the point of all this was to get my attention, he has it." She turned and lay a hand on Andy's arm. That tangible connection helped to ground her, just a little more. By small degrees the rapid beating of her heart was beginning to slow. "I want to see what they have before we call it in. I don't want to pull resources away from the areas that sightings were reported in if this is an attempt at a copycat killing."

Deputy Andrews thought about that for a moment. Finally he nodded. "We have a few more loops to close before we can let you do that. You understand that if it is a copycat, Mr. Campbell is still one of our main suspects. Until we can rule him out, completely, we can't let you look at the evidence."

It was a tenuous situation, and she hated that her logical mind was agreeing with him. "Then with all due respect, Deputy, I would suggest that you rule him out and quickly. If it is a copycat, he is going to kill again. If it _is_ Phillip Stroh, then I need to figure out what his agenda is and quickly, and he needs to be caught before he harms anyone else." She didn't need another member of her family, or one of their loved ones, paying the price for choices that she had made. Even if they were choices that she would make again.

His fingers tapped against the hilt of his gun. Andrews nodded. "Believe me, I understand. But as you know, there's a process, and there are regulations. We've got to be sure about this. A young woman is dead, and her family deserves answers."

"We know." Andy stared stoically back at him. "This family needs answers too," he reminded them. "Especially with this new development."

"What do you need?" Richard studied the deputies. "What can we supply you with that is going to make this move faster? Daniel has answered your questions. You've been over his truck, and all of his things are still up at the campsite. We're willing to cooperate, Deputy, but there is only so much that we can do as long as you're looking at my grandson as a suspect." He nodded to his daughter and her lover, "You've got more years of experience standing right there than they would want to admit to. They do this everyday."

"I'm not family." Andy glanced at Sharon and shrugged. "If he can't bring you into it yet because your nephew is still a suspect, then your hands are tied. Mine aren't. I just met Daniel. I have no specific ties to him or the rest of your family." They were together, but they weren't married. They weren't engaged, and they weren't living together. They were dating. That wouldn't preclude him from being able to look at what the sheriff's office had gathered on the Matthews case.

"He's right." Sharon lay a hand on his arm again. Her attention returned to the deputies. "The Lieutenant and I are on file with our department as having a personal relationship, per our own regulations, but he has no personal ties to anyone else here. Especially Daniel. I can't see any reason why his assistance would create any issues with your investigation. Lieutenant Flynn is, quite possibly, more familiar with the Stroh case than I am."

"Doubtful." Andy slanted a look at her. She had spent countless hours going over everything related to Stroh since first becoming Rusty's foster parent. "I was already with our division when we first began suspecting Stroh was behind the murders we wanted him for, the Captain joined us later, but she got up to speed pretty quick. Still, I've been studying this scumbag for years. I can't think it would hurt," he added with a shrug.

"Let me run it by my superiors," the deputy said. "If the county's chief investigator and the Sheriff don't have a problem with it, then we'll make it happen. You can come down to the station, and we'll take you through it." Andrews sighed. "I won't lie, we don't see a lot of this kind of thing up here. When we do have murders, it's pretty straightforward."

"Consider yourselves lucky." Andy reached into his back pocket for his wallet. He pulled a card out of it and held it out to the deputy. "My cell is listed. Let us know when you get an answer."

"We will." Andrews turned to his partner and nodded. The two of them turned, and by now, they knew their way out of the house. This wasn't their first, or even second visit. "Ma'am, Judge."

Richard followed them quietly and saw the two officers out. He stood in the foyer for a moment. It was a hell of a thing, he thought. What they expected to have been a tragic accident was becoming something much larger. Something a lot darker. He shook his head as he walked back toward the parlor. When he stepped inside, he found his daughter seated on one of the high-backed, antique armchairs that his wife had decorated the room with. Her head was in her hands as she leaned forward, elbows resting against her knees. His brows lifted. The Lieutenant was kneeling in front of her, hands stroking her legs.

"It's not your fault," Andy said quietly. "We knew Stroh might kill again, and if it's him, this has nothing to do with you. No one ever expected that he'd go after anyone but you or Rusty. If it's not him, it still doesn't have anything to do with you, Sharon. This dirtbag found a convenient excuse, a way to toy with the cops up here, that's all."

"I know that." She lifted her head and looked at him. "Intellectually, I know all of that. When does it stop, Andy? When does Rusty get to stop looking over his shoulder, when do I get to stop worrying about his safety every day, and now _this_?" Her eyes closed. "Daniel was in those woods with that madman," she said quietly. "He is my sister's son, but I have loved that boy like he was mine, and Denise… my God. _Andy_." She drew her bottom lip between her teeth. Sharon shook her head at him. "There is a mother going through the hell that I have only been afraid of. That is not okay."

"No it's not." He reached up and tucked a loose tendril of hair behind her ear. "You didn't bring this up here. Whoever it is, we're going to figure it out. We're going to catch them." Andy shrugged. He sighed, a bit mournfully. "It's what we do."

Her hand cupped his cheek. There was sadness in her eyes, and worry, but she managed a small smile. "It is." Her fingers were gentle against the line of his jaw. "You're wrong," Sharon said thickly. "You are family." Her eyes lit with emotion. "Please tell me that you know that. No matter what we are or are not, tell me that you know _that_."

She was raw. He could see it in her gaze. The usual control that she kept on her emotions was gaping open, allowing all of the feelings that she usually kept compartmentalized to crash into one another. It was a kaleidoscope of emotion. Andy took her hands and held them. "I know," he said quietly. He tipped his face toward her, and their lips touched. It was soft, barely a caress. "I love you," he whispered, "so yeah, I know that."

Richard decided that might be a good point at which to clear his throat. He stood, head bowed, gaze averted. His hands were in the pockets of his slacks. He gave it a moment, and then he looked up. Andy had leaned back, and his daughter was looking away. He watched her wipe at her eyes, and even from where he stood, he could see the blush spreading up her neck. "I'd rather not tell the others what's been found. Not until we know a little more. I don't think that having more questions, at this point, is going to help anyone. Least of all, Daniel."

"I agree." Sharon pushed out of her chair. She folded her arms across her chest again. "I think we should hold on to it for now. We'll tell the others when we know _what_ to tell them. I don't want to tell Rusty either," she said, this time to Andy. "Not until I have to."

"I wouldn't," he agreed as he rose to his feet. "The kid has enough to worry about." Andy lay a hand against her back. "He worries about you as it is, when he hears this, the kid will freak out."

"Hm." Sharon sighed. "Yes, I know. He doesn't need to worry about me. He doesn't need to worry about any of this." She shrugged. "It is what it is. Let's keep it in this room for now."

"Good," Richard said. "That's good. Well, I suggest we don't linger too long. The others know that the deputies were here. I'll tell them they had more questions."

"Thank you, dad." Sharon turned, smiled wanly at Andy. "I left Ricky with the horses. I should go and help him take care of them."

"I'll call Provenza," Andy said. "Giving him a heads up won't hurt. I'll see if he and Mike can pull the last sightings. They can keep it quiet. If anything, they'll keep a closer eye on Rusty for a couple of days."

"That sounds like a good idea." She touched his arm again before she walked away.

Richard waited until his daughter had gone. Then he fixed the man with a hard look. "What did you mean, no one thought this Stroh character would go after anyone but Rusty _or_ Sharon?" They knew the boy had some connection to him, but his daughter had never mentioned being in danger herself. She never actually told any of them just how serious it was.

Andy sighed. He shoved his hands into his pockets. "She has a way of… making people notice her, and not always in a great way." He shrugged, not entirely apologetically. "She pissed him off."

"Ah." Richard nodded slowly. "Yes, I can imagine that she might have."

"She's never going to let him get at Rusty. Sharon will put herself between them however she can. If it means keeping him focused on her, well…" Andy took a step forward. He studied the floor for a moment. "It's given me some moments, but she'll do what she has to do to keep Rusty safe. You know how she is with her kids. You haven't met Rusty yet, but he's her kid. Putting herself between him and hell… She never thinks twice about it."

Richard arched a brow at him. Yes, he knew what his daughter was like when it came to her children. It's how they all felt about protecting their kids. His lips pursed while he thought through the Lieutenant's words. "That's where you come into it?" He wasn't questioning the man, but possibly his intentions. Sharon wasn't the only one who had a kid to protect.

"When she'll let me." A small grin quirked at his lips. "Sometimes, even when she doesn't." Andy shrugged again. "Sharon can take care of herself. I'm just the back up, well, as far as she knows."

He grunted quietly. Richard shook his head. The man had her number. It was a balancing act, and just a little bit of subterfuge. He chuckled quietly. "Yes. She's stubborn," he pointed out. "Opinionated as hell."

"Yeah." Andy arched a brow at him. "Well, so am I."

"Good." Richard turned. He walked toward the door. "That might be just fine." That other one, Raydor, he had never bothered to try. He cowered, where the family was concerned. Or tried to pass everything off as a joke. Richard was deciding that he might just like this one.

Andy watched him go. He shook his head. Strange, he felt like he'd just passed a test of some kind. Andy sighed as he reached for his phone. There were other things to worry about at the moment, however. Things that were far more pressing. He wasn't exaggerating when he told Sharon's father that she would put herself between Rusty and hell. He had to make sure that it wouldn't come to that. That meant figuring this thing out and fast.

One thing was obvious, Denise Matthews had been murdered. Whoever had done it was trying to make a point. At the moment, it was anyone's guess what that point was. That created a situation that Flynn didn't like.

He didn't like it one damned bit.

**-TBC-**


	9. Chapter 9

**Home and Hearts Aflame**

**by Kadi  
Rated: T**

**Disclaimer: **I do love this sandbox, but sadly it is not mine.

* * *

**Chapter 9**

The approval from the Sheriff's Office for Andy to assist in the investigation was not long in coming. While he had no official jurisdiction in Oregon, the tone of the investigation had obviously changed. He drove, not to the annex in Redmond, but to the main department in Bend. The GPS in his rental, along with Richard's directions got him there without too much fuss. Andy had enough experience in police work, and especially working homicide, that he knew not everyone would be completely receptive to his arrival. He wasn't wrong.

The mistrust of the deputies and state police was evident when he arrived. He wore his badge, and his gun, but as he was led through the outer offices of the department, and down a long narrow hall, he could feel the stares boring into him. The good 'ol boys of the Deschutes County Sheriff's Department were not pleased to have an outsider poking through their investigation, but it seemed all the worse for having him be a Homicide Detective from a much larger city.

Andy tucked his sunglasses into the breast pocket of the blue button down he had changed into before driving into Bend. He wore a dark blazer over it, but he was still in his jeans. He followed Deputy Andrews into a large room at the back of the department. It reminded him a little of the old murder room, back at Parker Center. There were several desks crammed in, and a white board. Andy looked around. Their evidence was laid out on a couple of card tables that had been pushed together. The white board was positioned nearby. He walked over and studied it. Their timeline was sketched out there. They'd have done the same in Los Angeles.

There were also pictures. They had one that would have come from the Matthews family; the others had been taken when Denise Matthews's body was found, and following the autopsy. Andy focused on the picture of the living, smiling girl. His brows drew together. A breath hissed out between his teeth. She was blonde, slender, and blue-eyed.

She was exactly Phillip Stroh's type.

He turned away from the whiteboard and let his gaze sweep the room. He walked over to one of the card tables and studied the evidence bags. Denise Matthews's clothes were in one. He lifted it and turned it over in his hands. Then he picked up one of the photos taken when she was found. His head inclined as he studied it. He could understand why they had leaned so hard on Daniel. She was pretty battered. Her head was turned at an odd angle.

"Her neck was broken," Deputy Andrews said quietly. "The medical examiner can't determine if it happened during the fall, or before that. She was alive when she fell into the ravine, but she had been stabbed, so she died soon after." He pointed to another evidence bag and lifted it. "The knife was laying in the ravine with the body. No prints."

"You didn't find any blood evidence in Daniel Campbell's car or on his clothes," Andy pointed out. "Even if he'd had the truck detailed, there would be some sign. Blood gets into everything."

"Yeah." Andrews sighed. "We're close to signing off on him. It was violent, but it wasn't…" He didn't know what word he was looking for.

"Passionate." Andy put the bag of Denise's clothes down. "Personal. Either of those will work. When a guy kills his girlfriend, it can be pretty violent, but it's usually a crime of passion. Stabbing, breaking her neck, it's impersonal." He moved to the next table and lifted another evidence bag. There were two condoms inside, both still in the wrapper. "Any sign of sexual abuse?"

"No." Andrews placed his hands on his hips. "We thought maybe he got interrupted, or the fight escalated. Different brand than we found in Mr. Campbell's belongings too. You know, when a guy grabs a handful of condoms, he's not going to grab several different brands. He's going to dump whatever was left in the box in his bag. Mr. Campbell had a couple of loose ones in his pack, and a box that hadn't been opened." The deputy shrugged. "Like I said, we're close to ruling him out."

"No prints, no DNA evidence," Deputy Callan stated. He was younger than Andrews, he'd been on the case, but not out to the O'Dwyer residence. "All we have is a couple of footprints near the ravine. Size ten. Campbell is a size eleven."

"Yeah." Andy was sifting through a stack of photographs of the body. "So is Phillip Stroh. So am I." He looked up and frowned at the deputy. "Any specific tread? Something we can tie it to."

"Looked like a Timberline. Hiking boot," Callan clarified. "Campbell was wearing work boots. The treads didn't match."

"Where was the note?" Andy looked around the room. "Where did your M.E. find it?"

"Stuffed into her bra," Andrews said. "There was blood on the original, some splatter. He placed it before he stabbed her."

"Then he either pushed her, or she fell." Callan shrugged. "It's hard to say which. She got pretty beat up in the fall."

"I can see that." Andy put the pictures down. The girl was dead before Daniel ever went looking for her. His family would have a hard time getting him past that. "What about the DNA on the baby? Any idea when your lab will have that back?"

"Preliminary in a few days," Andrews said. "We got a sample from Campbell when we started our search, just in case we found evidence that required it. We sent it off to the lab too. They'll do a cross comparison."

Andy only nodded. That much he knew. He lifted the pictures again and studied them, closer this time. There were bruises covering much of her body, but the marks on her arms were in the distinct shape of a handprint. Andy frowned. "Do you have any of these to scale?" He lifted the photo of the bruises on her arms. "We've got pictures of our guy's hands. I'd like to compare them." He shrugged. "It's not definitive, but hell, better than nothing…" Because what he was seeing, just at a glance, it was Stroh.

He didn't want to go back to Sharon with that. He wanted to tell her something else. It was a hell of a thing, but he would prefer a copycat. That was a thought he never imagined that he would entertain.

"Actually," Callan nodded. He opened a folder on his desk. "We have scaled shots of all the marks on her body." He held out a couple of specific photos. "Are you really liking your guy for this?"

"It's starting to fit. At least at a glance." Andy pulled his cell phone out. "She's his type, and he's a little short-tempered lately. I guess getting caught ruined his mood." Andy dialed a familiar number and waited. When his partner answered, he sighed. "It's me. I need everything we've got on Stroh sent up here. Have Tao inbox it to me, specifically pictures of his dump site, the shots we got of his hands to compare to the last vic, and her autopsy photos."

"Damn." Provenza leaned back in his chair. "I was hoping you were wrong about that." He wanted to think that they were imagining zebras, not horses, at the sound of familiar hoofbeats.

"I'm not saying we're right," Flynn replied. "It just looks a hell of a lot like he was here. She fits his profile. It was a little more violent than he usually gets, but he was locked away for a while, and he's got a beef. Whoever killed this girl was angry."

"The Captain pissed him off." Provenza sighed. "Yeah, alright. I'll get on that. What about Rusty?" He drummed the fingers of his other hand against the arm of his chair. "Do we want to close in on that situation, or let it ride?"

"She doesn't want to tell him until we're sure," Andy said. "Let's just wait. We've still got eyes on him." Outside of himself and Sharon, Provenza was the only one who knew that Rusty had private security. He had balked at the idea that she was just going to _allow_ Rusty to go back to school and continue on as if nothing happened. To ease his mind, Sharon let him in on her plan. If there was one thing that his partner and their Captain agreed on, it was Rusty, and most especially, Rusty's wellbeing. "The kid is okay," he continued, "he's going to class. There's enough on his plate right now."

Provenza grunted in response. "I guess now I don't have to ask how long you're going to be up there," he grumbled. Sick days his foot. They had all known exactly where Flynn was going. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but now he figured it was a good thing that he had. The damned stubborn woman might have gotten extra security for Rusty, but wasn't doing anything for herself. Just like with the letters the previous year. It was almost as if she was baiting him, daring Stroh to come after her as some kind of half-assed way of getting him out in the open. It was driving them all up the wall, and Flynn most especially. There wasn't a lot they could do about it, however. The rules didn't cover having stubborn, protective mothers as bosses. "I'll talk to Mike," he said, "we'll pull what we have and send it. Just remind the Captain, we can only keep a lid on this for so long. Rusty is going to find out."

"She knows." Andy tapped the fingers of one hand against his leg. "Let Sharon handle Rusty. It's what she does. She'll tell him when it's time, and yeah, I'm going to be up here for a while. We need to figure this thing out, and I'm not leaving her alone. She's got enough on her plate right now, too."

His partner snorted. "Sure, you keep telling yourself that." He smirked, despite the fact that it couldn't be seen. "I thought you said you weren't dating."

Andy snorted. "That's old news, keep up old man." He grinned as he disconnected the call. He tucked the phone back into his pocket and looked over the white board. He scratched his thumb against his forehead and sighed. "Okay," he said, "I'm not going to get in your way. I hate that crap. I do want to look over all of this, and your notes. I think we can safely take Daniel Campbell off your suspect list. I get why you liked him for this, but he didn't do it. There's nothing there." Andy shrugged. "It's always easiest to think that it was the boyfriend. What about the guy she hooked up with while they were broke up? That Joey Davis character. Anyone looked into him?"

Deputy Nathan Walker raised his hand. "I did." He leaned forward in his seat, let his elbows rest against his desk. "He's got a solid alibis. Joey Davis is a math teacher at Bend High School. He's also one of the assistant coaches for the Junior Varsity boy's baseball team. They had a tournament up in Terrebonne on Saturday. The bus left the school at seven that morning and didn't get back until about eight. I spoke to the other coaches, he was there until almost ten. The coaches have to wait until the last kid leaves, and then lock up the gear." He pointed a pen at the timeline on the white board. "By the time the bus pulled in, Campbell and Matthews had already argued. By the time he left, Miss Matthews was dead, according to our coroner. Davis isn't our guy."

"Who else do we have?" Andy leaned against an empty desk. He didn't want to consider it was Stroh. Not yet. It was looking more likely, but that wasn't a can of worms that he was ready to get into. "What about other friends, boyfriends, family members." He ground his teeth together, and as much as he hated to suggested it, he added, "on both sides. Daniel pissed anyone off lately?"

"We're looking into the Matthews family," Callan said. "So far, all we've got on them is a mother and an aunt over in Portland. The mother has a boyfriend, but his alibi checked out too. So we looked into the O'Dwyer family, which wasn't hard. They own half the county."

"The judge is retired, has been for years," Walker tapped his pen against his desk. "The oldest son owns the ranch now. He's back and forth a lot. The wife is a psychologist. She operates a practice out of Bend. They've got a couple of kids, both of them are away at college. You know the Captain, and her kids, and both of them have alibis too. Daniel's parents, Evelyn and Jacob, he's a doctor and she's got the design firm. They were both away for the weekend, visiting the youngest daughter. She goes to a private school in Portland."

"Some artsy thing," Callan said with a shrug. "Kind of like Juilliard, but for High School. Their oldest girls are at colleges well away from here. Robert would be your girlfriend's youngest brother. He's a lawyer. He's into civil stuff, divorces and real estate. Mostly the real estate. His wife was a stay at home mom, and their kids are still in High School. They go to the Catholic school here in Bend. It's where all the O'Dwyers from around here went to, except the youngest Campbell girl."

"We've looked into their friends," Deputy Andrews said. "Boyfriends, girlfriends, cousins, you name it. Everyone had a solid alibi or doesn't live around here anymore. The family is clean."

Of course they were. That was something that Andy already knew. He shifted his weight against the desk he was leaning on and crossed his legs. He folded his arms across his chest and frowned while he thought about it. "Dammit." That only left one possibility, Stroh or a copy cat. "No finger prints at the scene?"

"Nothing." Andrews sighed. "Not even on the note." He nodded to the bagged original. There was blood splatter on it and the bottom half was soaked.

Andy felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He took it out and swept his thumb across the screen. "I've got the stuff from our guys in LA." He pushed away from the desk and walked over. He leaned over the shoulder of Deputy Walker, the nearest officer, and began forwarding the data to his inbox.

Over the course of the next ten minutes, they transferred the data to every deputy present. Andy took them through their history with the subject, beginning with the first murders that they had attributed to Phillip Stroh and ending with the young woman Rusty had witnessed him burying. He gave them a run down of the incidents in LA, from Stroh's arrest to his escape.

It took a couple of hours, while the Deputies asked questions and likened those crimes to the murder of Denise Matthews, to go through it all. At the end, they still had more questions than answers. It was a violent murder, and only the note really linked it to the others. That was concerning, since Stroh wasn't one for leaving calling cards. He preferred to get in and out as cleanly as possible. If the Matthews murder was an attempt at getting Sharon's attention and luring her, and possibly Rusty, to Oregon, it was sloppy.

That was, ultimately, what bothered Andy the most. Stroh wasn't sloppy. Going after Rusty and Chief Johnson in her home a couple of years ago was not the smartest thing that he had ever done, but as far as killers went, he was one of the toughest that they had dealt with. Primarily because he knew how to work the system. He knew what limits the police could and could not push.

They had mountains of evidence, on the previous killings and now the Matthews case. That didn't do them a hell of a lot of good when they didn't have a viable suspect. The whole damned thing bothered Andy. There was something about all of it that just felt _off_. He couldn't put his finger on it.

He thought about all of that as he drove back to Redmond, just a few miles north and only twenty minutes away from Bend. He worked all of it over in his mind. When he was only a mile away from Sharon's family's home, he pulled off the road. He called his partner again.

"Tell me something," Andy began, the minute that the other Lieutenant answered. "Why the hell would Stroh give a damn about coming to Oregon? What? Just to stalk Sharon's family and figure out who they know and what they do every day? Why would he do that when he could have already gone to Canada, and from there, any number of countries with a no extradition clause. The son of a bitch could be scott free, sitting on a beach somewhere, planning his next murder. Why the hell hang around here, where there's a chance of getting caught again?"

"He doesn't leave witnesses," Provenza answered. "It's why he went after Rusty the first time. Getting the chief would have been a bonus. It's why he sent Weller after Rusty last year." The older Lieutenant was still seated at his desk. He sighed as he leaned forward. "What's going on?"

"I don't like it." Andy tapped the fingers of his other hand against the steering wheel in front of him. "It doesn't make any sense. Just forget for a minute that psychopaths like him don't really think like real people," he grumbled, "but we've proven time and again that he's not going to get close enough to Rusty to get what he wants. He's smart, a smart person would get the hell out of the country while he could."

"You just hit on the one fact in all of this that ties it together," Provenza pointed out. "He's a psychopath. He's not going to think _smart_. He's going to think about tying up any loose ends, and _then_ he's going to get out of the country." He shook his head. "You're too close to all of this. You stopped thinking like a detective; you're thinking like a boyfriend, pal." When Sanchez looked up at him and smirked, Provenza waved him off. "You don't want to think that she's in danger, or that the kid is in danger. None of us do, but now, there's a possibility that it's spread to her family, and that's going to bother her. It's going to make her crazy, and she's going to feel guilty, and there's not a thing that you can do about it. _This_," he said, while rolling his eyes, "is why I told you to stay away from her."

This time it was Amy that snorted. She put a hand over her mouth to muffle the laughter. "That was never going to happen," she muttered quietly.

Sanchez snickered. "Nope."

"Saw it coming a mile away," Tao called from his desk.

Provenza scowled at them. "Don't you all have work to do?"

"We get extra pay just for annoying you," Buzz said, without looking up from the video footage of their last case that he was cataloging for the DA's office.

"One of these days," Provenza said, "I'm going to be in charge, and _I__'__m_ going to fire him."

"Sure." Andy rolled his eyes. That would never happen. He'd get Buzz a raise first. "I'm not going to say that you're right. I don't think I'm physically capable of that." He smirked when his partner grunted. "I don't like it, that much is true, but nothing is adding up. Not the way it should. It doesn't feel like Stroh, and it's not the nephew, or the girl's ex-boyfriend."

"Give it time," Provenza said. "By now, whoever it is, Stroh or a copycat, they're going to know that they've got her attention. This guy is going to make another move. Tighten up security, keep an eye on the rest of the family." He paused for a minute. "Tell the Captain not to worry about Rusty." He looked across is desk at Sanchez, who nodded. "We've got him covered."

"Yeah." Andy sighed. "She knows. Hell of a thing, but in all of this, Rusty is the one she's the least worried about. She knows that he's protected." Between his security and the team, the kid was more than covered. No one would get near him. His lips pursed for a moment and he nodded. "I need to get back, I'm only a mile or so from the house. We're going to look over the stuff I got from the Deputies here, and I'll send it your way. It won't hurt to have another set of eyes looking at it." Maybe, when they saw the evidence, they'd understand why it wasn't sitting well with him.

"Great." Provenza rolled his eyes. "We've got nothing to do. Let's work the out of state cases too. The more the merrier."

"See," Andy snorted, "I knew you'd understand. You know what they say, idle hands are—"

"The kids have a saying for moments like these," Provenza drawled. "Bite me." He hung up and leaned back in his chair. The others were still laughing. "Go ahead, have fun. When we end up working two cases at the same time, I'm not going to get anyone here any overtime."

"Good thing the Captain took her computer with her," Buzz chirped.

Provenza scowled darkly at him. "One of these days," he promised.

For his part, Andy tossed his phone into the seat beside him and put the SUV back in gear. He pulled back out onto the road and finished the drive back to the ranch. He found Sharon on the porch outside the kitchen. She was leaning against one of the posts, nursing a cup of tea while she stared at the mountains in the distance.

"Hey." He stepped up beside her. Andy kept his hands pushed into his pockets. He leaned against the post opposite her. "Okay?"

"Yes." She added a hum as she looked at him. A smile appeared. Her brows lifted. "What did you find out?" She took a sip of her tea, but kept her gaze on him.

"Daniel's in the clear," Andy said. "The Deputies didn't want to make another trip out here. He's off the suspect list. They never had anything, and they knew it. They were just trying to be sure."

"I know." Sharon shifted where she stood, let her gaze wander back to the mountains. "They don't see the kinds of things here that we do. That's the advantage of growing up in a small town near the middle of nowhere. No one place is ever completely immune to the human stain, the darkness that inevitably infects those that take the lives of others, but up here…" There was none of the gang violence, opportunistic killings, or corruption that they saw so much of on a daily basis. "People get jealous, they lose their heads, they get behind the wheel intoxicated. People here don't drive down residential streets with guns poking out of their windows. Hikers don't stumble over the dumping grounds for serial killers. This is not Los Angeles."

His brows drew together as he watched her. Andy tilted his head. She seemed oddly wistful. He shifted where he stood, scuffed his shoe against the wooden planks of the porch. "You sound like you miss it," he said carefully, trying to gauge her mood.

"Maybe." Her head rolled against the porch post. Sharon looked at him again. "The simplicity of it, I think, and the peace." She pushed away from the post and moved to stand in front of him. "I'm a city girl at heart, though." Her hand settled against his chest, and her fingers toyed with the buttons of his shirt, where his tie would have been.

"No you're not." He grinned down at her. Andy reached out and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "You might like the city, but you're not foolin' me anymore." He saw her with the horses, and he saw her up on the mountain. She fit here, just as easily as she did in Los Angeles. It was her home. She couldn't tell him that she didn't carry a little piece of it with her wherever she went. It was like that part of him that was still back East. They couldn't escape their roots. "Country girl," he teased.

"Hm." She rolled her eyes at him. "If you tell anyone, there's a bean bag with your name on it." Sharon leaned in to him when his arm slipped around her. "What else?" There was more that he wasn't telling her.

Andy sighed. "I don't know. It might be Stroh, and it might not be, but we just don't know yet. Tao sent me everything we've got on him. The Deputies here have it now. Deputy Andrews sent me everything they have on this case. We can go over it later. I sent it to our guys too. They're going to put their minds to it. I feel like we're all missing something, and I don't know what."

She studied him closely. The worry was there. Beneath the surface, however, there was also frustration. It was a feeling that she recognized easily. His mind was working over the problem, trying to draw all the pieces together. Sharon reached up and passed her fingers over his hair. "Let's look at what you've got. Maybe I just need to see it."

"We will." Not just yet. Andy had spent hours pouring over the data. His hand stroked up her side. "Let's go tell your nephew that he's in the clear. He might have questions."

"Yes." Sharon leaned in to him for just a moment longer. When she slipped away, she took his hand. They walked back into the house, by way of the kitchen, and traded her tea for cups of coffee. It was shaping up to be another long day.

They located Daniel in the study. He had his tablet in his hand, but didn't appear to be paying it any attention. Instead he was staring at the fireplace. His mother was nearby, and as they appeared, she put away her phone and moved closer. Evelyn looked between the pair. "Any news?"

"Yes, actually." Sharon took a seat on the sofa beside Daniel. She glanced across the room. Ricky was in a chair in the corner, laptop open. They drew his gaze and she saw him close it. "Daniel," she focused her attention solely on him. "The Medical Examiner is ruling Denise's death as a homicide. Her injuries were consistent with such." She lay her hand on his arm. Her jaw clenched when he shuddered. "We still don't know who or why, but you've been cleared."

Her voice wavered. Andy took a step forward. "There was a note found on Denise. We have reason to think that whoever killed her is using one of our cases in Los Angeles to either get attention or divert that attention to someone else."

"Los Angeles?" Evelyn stared at them. "How does one of your cases hundreds of miles away have anything at all to do with Daniel and Denise?"

Sharon closed her eyes. She took a breath and let it out slowly before she looked up at her sister. "The man who tried to kill Rusty; it's possible that he did this to lure me up here. He may have believed that I would bring Rusty with me, away from the city, where he is protected."

"There's also the possibility," Andy said quietly, voice low and rumbling, "that it has nothing to do with that at all. Someone who wanted to emulate that killer could be using this as an opportunity to be noticed."

"We don't have any answers yet," Sharon said quietly. "I'm sorry that I can't give you anymore than that. I'm afraid we have far more questions now than we had before."

"Why Denise?" Daniel shook his head. "That makes no sense. Why would anyone want to hurt her?" He ran a hand through his hair. "She's never done anything bad to anyone."

"I don't know, Danny." Sharon rubbed his arm. "That's the one question that we can never answer. We live in a world where bad things happen to good people, and it sounds so trite, and not nearly good enough, but it's all that I've got."

"It's why we do it." Andy said. He shrugged. "My ex-wife used to ask me all the time, why? What was the point in it, every case was always the same. Someone was dead, and some dirtbag was going to jail for it. Why did I keep going back. What made me want to keep looking at all that?"

Sharon smiled affectionately up at him. Her gaze moved back to Daniel, but not without glancing at her son too. It was a question that her older children had asked of her, time and again, especially since her transfer to Major Crimes. "While we can't make anything better for the families left behind, or bring back a life unnecessarily ended, we can stop it from happening again. That doesn't help you right now," she said, "but we will figure this out, Danny."

"I know, Aunt Sharon." His gaze dropped to hands. "I believe you. It doesn't change anything, though. She's still gone." His eyes closed. Daniel concentrated on just breathing for a moment. "So, if I'm not a suspect anymore, can I call her mom now?" He felt badly that he hadn't been able to reach out to Denise's family.

"By now the family has been updated," Andy said. "Do what you need to."

"I'll do you one better." Ricky put his computer aside and stood up. "I'll drive you out there. You can say what you need to in person."

Daniel nodded slowly. "Thanks cuz." He rubbed his hands against his sweats. He stood up slowly. "I think I'd like to do that. It didn't feel right, not being able to say… something."

"Danny are you sure?" Evelyn reached for his arm as he passed her. "You can give it a few more hours, maybe go over there in the morning." The news he'd just heard was hard to take in. She wanted him to be able to think on it for a little while.

"Mom," he sighed. "It's been long enough. They wouldn't let me talk to her family for days because they thought that I hurt her. I don't want her mom to think that I didn't care. That just because she's dead now, this family is going to forget about her."

"Okay." Evelyn's hand moved to his shoulder. "You're right. I'll go with you. We'll make sure that they don't need anything. Just let me get my purse."

"Yeah," Daniel nodded. "Sure." He knew better than to try and change her mind, and didn't have the energy at the moment to even attempt it. "I'm just going to throw on something a little more appropriate than sweats and a t-shirt."

"I'll go get my rental and pull it around," Ricky told them. "Take your time." He pushed his hands into his pockets and hung back, even as his cousin and aunt left the room. He looked at his mother. "This is the Stroh thing, isn't it? You think he's doing this to get to you?"

"It's a possibility." She stood up, cupped her coffee mug in her hands. "We really don't know yet, but the note was meant to indicate as much. It was signed Phillip Stroh, but he has no history of that kind of behavior."

Ricky nodded slowly. "Just… you know, be careful okay? Whatever the reason for it, having some nut job focused on you can't be good." It was the one thing about her job that they would never get used to.

Sharon hummed. She pulled him to her in a one-armed hug. "I'm always careful, honey." At his snort, she smiled. "I promise. I'm an administrator. I give orders, I sign time sheets. There is nothing to worry about."

This time it was Andy's turn to snort. He looked down while shaking his head. "Don't worry," he told Ricky. "We've got her covered."

"You, I believe." Ricky made a face at his mother. "Her, not so much."

Her nose wrinkled. "Rotten child." She tried to ruffle his hair, but he ducked away before she could. Sharon smiled. "Go, keep an eye on your cousin."

"I'm going." Ricky pointed at Andy. "Keep an eye on her."

"Definitely." He rocked back on his heels, suppressed the urge to smirk. Instead, he waited for Ricky to leave. His brows rose when they were alone. "Ready to go to work?"

Sharon sighed. "Not especially." She walked toward him. "But let's do it anyway. Looks like we have a murder to solve."

He shrugged. "Must be Monday."

She rolled her eyes at him as they walked toward the exit. "I must be working you too hard, it's actually Thursday. Remind me to tell your boss that you need a vacation."

"Can she get me a vacation buddy while she's at it?" He lay a hand against her back as they walked toward the stairs. They would get her computer and begin working through the evidence.

"If you ask nicely, I'm sure that she will do her best." She wrapped an arm around his middle and leaned in to his side.

"Now see, that's the part that always gets me in trouble." Andy glanced down at her with a small smile. "Remind me to practice."

She returned his smile, for just a moment, before she let her attention drift back to the situation that was surrounding them. They knew now what had happened on that mountain. It was a matter of figuring out why, and more importantly, _who_ was behind it.

**-TBC-**


	10. Chapter 10

**Home and Hearts Aflame**

**by Kadi  
Rated: T**

**Disclaimer: **I do love this sandbox, but sadly it is not mine.

* * *

**Chapter 10**

It had to be every bit of ninety degrees out. Rusty lamented on the heat of late spring in Los Angeles as he walked to his car. He didn't feel so guilty about parking in the garage a few blocks from campus anymore. Usually he parked closer, actually _on_ campus, but the last few days it had been so hot that getting in his car at the end of the day had just sucked. Parking so far from the school was probably on the list of things that Sharon didn't want him doing anymore, but he decided this was one of those things that she didn't need to know about.

He was doing a lot of things lately, just so she wouldn't worry about him so much. Rusty didn't want to live in a cage. He didn't want to live in a prison, always feeling like _he_ was the criminal, and Sharon was respecting that. He could give in a little, meet her halfway as they said. He didn't mind taking the extra precautions. Things like parking closer to his destinations, and not leaving his windows cracked, even when it was hot. He didn't stay out too late, and he always texted her regularly, just so that she would know that he was okay.

None of those were anything that she asked of him. Rusty just did it, because as much as she worried about him, he worried about her too. If she was busy thinking about him all of the time, then he knew she wasn't concentrating on her own safety. That was important too. It wasn't all about him, even if that was a lesson he was still learning.

Rusty always kept his phone in one hand and his keys in the other when he was headed to or from his car. His keys, he had learned, could make a good weapon. Julio taught him that. He didn't have to carry a gun, or pepper spray, or anything conventional like that. If someone jumped him, getting away was as simple as jabbing them with his car keys. He also still remembered the lessons that he was taught the previous year, while doing his SIS operation. When he reached his car, Rusty made sure to check inside before he unlocked it, and he checked the doors first, just to make sure that they were still locked. If everything was cool, then he got in the car and he headed home, just like usual. If it wasn't, he knew to walk away, all while dialing.

He wasn't expecting any problems, and he wasn't surprised. Rusty slid into his car, behind the steering wheel, and tossed his book bag into the seat beside him. Out of habit, he locked the doors again before starting the car. Some of his friends thought that he was paranoid. Rusty just shrugged at them, reminded them that his mother was a cop, and left it at that. He didn't want to be known as the guy that some serial killer wanted to off, and he didn't want to be the witness, not anymore. Rusty wanted those parts of his life to be over, and in some ways, they were. In others, he knew it would never be over, not until Phillip Stroh was caught again. That didn't mean that he had to live like it was never over, but being safe, that didn't mean _not_ living.

Rusty thought about that as he pointed the car away from Santa Monica and drove toward the highway. He considered stopping by the mall on his way home, but he was hungry, and even having been in the garage all day the car was hot. He turned the air conditioner up and decided he would much rather stop to get something to eat before heading home. It had been a long day, and he was tired. He also wanted to call Sharon again. She sounded weird on the phone that morning.

His nose wrinkled as an odd smell began to fill the interior of the car. Rusty shook his head. It was time to clean his car out, he decided. He glanced over at the front, passenger floorboard as he thought that. Sharon had been gone all week and the car was beginning to look like it. He would _definitely_ be cleaning it out before she got home. She hated when he left soda cans or food wrappers in it. Actually, she hated that he ate or drank in it at all. She was weird like that, he thought. Oh well, he would clean it up, and it would just be another one of those little things she didn't _need_ to know about.

A few minutes after Rusty merged into traffic, headed toward the on ramp for highway, a siren went off behind him. He glanced into his rearview and spotted lights. He pulled into the right lane, but when the car followed him, and flashed its headlights, he sighed. He probably hadn't signaled, and this time, he was getting busted for it. Rusty waved that he had seen them, and looked for a spot to pull off the road. He pulled into the parking lot of a small strip mall and stopped. He let his head fall back against the headrest and sighed again. Somehow, he didn't think there would be any hiding _this_ from Sharon.

Rusty rolled down his window with one hand and reached up to flip down the visor with the other. He took down his insurance and registration, and then he reached into his pocket to pull out his wallet. He had both items, and his license, waiting in his hand as the officers approached his car, one on each side. He was smiling when the one on his side reached his window. "Hey guys. Any chance we can, like, not tell my mom about this? You know, the nice lady with the badge who is always telling me that the way I drive is a crime?"

"You're on your own." The patrol officer laughed as he leaned down to get a look at Rusty. They had already run the car's license plate, but that was after they signaled the kid to pull over. "You know, she could have a point. Did you see the car you cut off back there?"

"Uh…" Rusty winced. "I'm going to go with no. Hey!" He leaned forward against the steering wheel, after handing over his information, "if he was in my blindspot, that's his fault. Other cars should totally make themselves visible. That's a law right?"

"No." The patrolman laughed. "I'll give you points for trying, though. Tell you what, use that one on your mom, and let's see how it goes over."

"Oh come on!" Rusty tried wheedling. "Ever heard the saying, there's always two sides to every story? How come he doesn't get the ticket."

"Because he's the one that almost lost his bumper when you cut him off." He lifted the items in his hand. "I'm going to go run this and write your ticket. Stay put."

"Fine." Rusty leaned back again. "Just know, following the rules because you know who the car belongs to, not cool man."

"Now see," the officer grinned back, "I was thinking about writing you a warning. That warning is slipping away kid…" He chuckled as he walked away. He shook his head and looked at his partner. "We should recommend the Captain get him some driving lessons."

His partner nodded, but wasn't paying attention. His brows were drawn together as he walked around the car again. "Hey, what does that look like to you," he pointed to an odd colored smear on the back end of the car, near the trunk's keyhole. It wasn't very large, barely the size of a thumb. He leaned down to get a closer look. "Does that look like blood to you?"

"I don't know." He leaned in and shrugged. "Could be. What do you think?" He frowned at his partner. "You know who this car belongs to, right? What are you suggesting?"

"I don't know." He rested his hands on his hips after straightening. "I think we should check it out. Cop's kid in a cop's car, doesn't mean we don't follow through on something like that, right?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "Alright. Let's see if the kid will pop it for us." He walked back around toward the driver's side window. The kid was playing on his phone, not even paying attention to them. "Hey," he glanced at the license in his hand, "Russell. Do you mind popping your trunk for us? We just want to take a look."

Rusty looked up at him. "Uh, yeah, I guess so." He frowned. "Why?" Confusion was trying to give way to anxiety. Rusty sat up in his seat. "Is something wrong?" He had checked the doors, but not the trunk. Was he supposed to check that too? He didn't remember Sykes or Cooper saying anything about checking the trunk.

"I'm not sure. We just want to check it out." He nodded to the kid, then the door. "Pop the trunk and step out for me. It's probably nothing. Rules, you know?"

"Don't I ever." Rusty reached out and hit the button beside the steering wheel. He heard the trunk click. He pushed open his door and stepped out of the car, his phone still in his hand. The officer stepped aside and Rusty walked ahead of him. "Does cooperation push us back into warning territory? Just saying."

The second patrolman waited until his partner and the kid had moved back around toward the rear of the vehicle. Only then did he reach out and slowly lift the trunk. He pulled his gun, almost immediately, and turned. He pointed it at the kid. "Hands up, and don't move."

Rusty's hand clenched around his phone, but both of his hands shot into the air. "Dude, really? What the hell!"

"Hey, Bryce, come on…" The officer walked around and got a better look. "Jesus!" He felt his stomach turn.

"What?" Rusty tried to crane his head around to see.

The patrolman reached out and grabbed him. He pulled Rusty around and pointed him at the open trunk. "Want to explain that?"

His stomach clenched. Bile rose, hot and bitter, in the back of his throat. Laying in the trunk of his car, body twisted at a weird angle, eyes open and face gray in death, was none other than the man who had been haunting his darkest dreams. Rusty wanted to blink, but his eyes were frozen. He couldn't even look away, no matter how much he wanted to. "Guys, I think now might be a good time to call my mom," he managed to mutter.

For one, this didn't look so great. Secondly, she might want to know that Phillip Stroh was dead. Third, and this is one that he kind of wanted to know too, how the hell had his body gotten into the trunk? Or maybe, more importantly, _who_ put it there?

"I think you might be right." The patrolman pulled out his cuffs. "Russell Beck, you have the right to remain silent…" He pulled the kid's hands behind his back and cuffed his wrists as he recited his rights.

"Wait," Rusty blinked. It was surreal. He hardly moved, not until he felt his phone being pulled out of his hand. "What? Are you, like, kidding me right now?" He turned where he stood, hands now secured behind him. "You think that _I_ had something to do with _that_?" He jerked his head toward the body in his trunk. "Really?"

"I don't know if you did or not," the officer replied, "but how do you think that body got in your trunk?" When the kid didn't answer, he nodded. "I thought as much. Come on, we've got to call this in. You're going down to the precinct." He sighed as he turned Rusty and started walking him toward the squad car. "Yeah, to your point, calling your mom… that might be a really good idea right now."

The majority of the last few years of Rusty's life had been spent around police officers. In that time he had seen, heard, and experienced a lot of things. One of the things he often heard was just how idiotic Hollywood Division was when it came to investigating things. Rusty was learning first hand just how true that was.

The patrol officers that pulled him over operated out of that precinct, so that was where he was taken, and those were the detectives that were sent out to process his car. Rusty spent the next couple of hours, locked in a small interview room, waiting. He didn't have his phone, he didn't have his books, and no one would tell him what the _hell _was happening. After a while, a couple of detectives came in to question him.

They weren't very nice, and one of them was kind of smelly. The guy's breath was seriously toxic. Rusty tried to be respectful, he really did, but after an hour of telling them the same thing over and over, he decided that he'd had enough. He asked to speak to Sharon. He asked to speak to Lieutenant Provenza, or Assistant Chief Taylor, or anyone that would understand that _he_ had not killed _Phillip Stroh_. If he had, didn't they think he would be dancing in the street and announcing it? He wouldn't be hiding the jerk in his car, especially since he spent _most_ of his time around police officers. What were these guys, stupid?

Most likely, Rusty figured. They wouldn't listen to him. They wouldn't do _anything_ that he asked, or get _anyone_ that he asked for. In fact, they accused him of wanting special favors. Okay, so maybe asking to talk to DDA Hobbs, and sort of implying they were idiots because they should already have a DDA involved anyway because wasn't that how things worked, wasn't the best thing he could have done. Rusty was just tired of dealing with them. Since they didn't seem inclined to get him Hobbs either, Rusty did the only other thing that he could think of.

He asked for a lawyer.

After that, he sat back, folded his arms over his chest, and refused to say another word.

_Lawyers are for criminals, not witnesses._

Buzz's words rang through his head. Since they were going to treat him like a criminal, Rusty decided to use the rights that they had so nicely read to him, more than once. He wasn't going to speak to anyone but a lawyer.

There was just one problem with that. His knowledge of lawyers was seriously limited. He only knew a couple of them, and most of them were with the DA's office. That only left him with, like, two choices. He tried calling both of them. Only one of them answered and was actually available.

It was weird how things worked out. Rusty was aware of just _how_ weird, especially when his lawyer arrived. The detectives were told to leave the room, and didn't seem pleased about it, but didn't have much choice in the matter.

He leaned forward against the table. His hands were still cuffed, this time in front of him. He clasped his hands together, winced a bit as the chain of the cuffs scraped against the top of the table. "So," he began, feeling just a bit awkward, but too frustrated to care. "Thanks for, like, coming. I didn't really know anyone else."

Jack Raydor placed his briefcase on the table and dropped into the chair across from the kid. "Well," he began, not really sure what to say, "not every day your… hell, step-kid, ex-step-kid, whatever you are, calls asking for help because he's being held as a murder suspect." Jack ran a hand over his hair, scratched the back of his head. "Uh… right."

Rusty snorted. "Exactly." He sighed. "Look, they wouldn't call anyone else for me. The only other lawyers I know are DDA Hobbs, DDA Rios, and Gavin. Two of them were out of the question, for obvious reasons, and Gavin didn't answer, no offense."

"None taken," Jack shrugged. "Although I have to say, he's not as good as me, and he doesn't handle criminal cases." He reached over and opened his brief case. "Want to tell me what's going on here?"

"I seriously wish that I knew." Rusty leaned back again. "They are totally wigging out because they found a body in my car, and okay, so that's not exactly good, but I didn't put him there!" He fidgeted in his seat. "I can't seem to make these guys understand, if I had killed _Phillip Stroh_, of all people, after Sharon finished grounding me for life, we would totally throw a party."

Jack snorted at that. "Probably not a party, but I get what you're saying." Not that the kid would have hurt anyone to begin with, but that was the last fellow that he would go anywhere near, at least voluntarily. "Okay, so I think we can pretty much operate on the assumption that you didn't do it. What are you doing down here?"

"My point exactly." Rusty wanted to bounce in his seat, but managed to suppress his impatience that much at least. "They won't let me call anyone. Not even Chief Taylor. These guys are kind of stupid, I'm totally understanding everything that I have ever heard about them. Listen," he shifted in the hard, metal chair again and leaned forward. "Sharon doesn't know I'm here. She's in Oregon dealing with a family crisis thing. Like, one of her nephews was in some kind of trouble. They wouldn't call her either."

"You're kidding me?" Jack blinked at him. He didn't particularly like dealing with Hollywood Division either, they were more of a headache than Flynn, Provenza, and the whole of Major Crimes combined, including his ex-wife. He closed his briefcase again. "Okay, let's see what we can do about that. Just sit back, and try to be patient for a little while longer. If nothing else, I'll see if I can get you transferred to Central. The whole Phillip Stroh thing belonged to them, and if anything ever qualified as a Major Crime, this might be it." He pushed up from his seat and lifted the briefcase. "Hey, don't sweat it kid. If nothing else, I'll be able to get you off on a technicality. Like you said, these guys, not too bright."

Rusty stared at him. "That's not exactly filling me with warm and fuzzy feelings of security," he said blandly. "You get the part where you were my last resort, right?" He would never have called Jack otherwise, and thought it was important that they get that right out in front.

"I thought you said no offense?" Jack snorted at him. "Sit tight. I'll take care of it." He might not like how things had gone this year, especially where Sharon was concerned, and his own mistakes, but it wasn't in him to ignore the kid when he was in trouble. There was one thing he hadn't lied about, he did like Rusty. He just hadn't wanted to adopt him.

"All I'm doing is sitting." Rusty slumped in his chair, but it was with a little bit of relief, surprisingly. At least one person he knew was involved now, even if it was _Jack_. "Thanks."

Jack paused at the door and smirked at him. "Hey, don't thank me yet. Wait until Sharon gets my bill." He grinned when the kid groaned. Maybe he'd wait until later to let him know he was going to do this one pro-bono.

Rusty lowered his head to the table, let it rest against his arms. This situation was so many shades of screwed up, but he didn't really see any way around it. He sat, quietly trying to figure out how to make sense of it when the door opened again. He didn't think that much time had passed, a few minutes maybe. He watched Jack step back inside. "That was quick."

"Yeah." He shrugged. "I called the big gun."

Rusty blanched. He paled a bit. "You called Sharon."

"That would be an affirmative." Jack set his briefcase back on the table. "The bad news is, she's not happy. The good news is, you're out of here. Well, not _out_, exactly. The whole dead body in your car thing is still a problem, but we're getting you transferred. Lieutenant Provenza and Detective Sanchez are on their way to pick you up. They'll take you down to the Major Crimes Murder Room and get everything that SID picked up at your car sent over there too. The case is all theirs now."

"What did you tell her?" There was this small part of Rusty that was kind of hoping he would be able to do it himself. Mainly because he wanted to assure her that he was okay. That he had never seen Phillip Stroh, hadn't gone near him, and oh yes, did he mention that he was okay?

"Just what I knew. Which was pretty much all of it." Jack ran a hand over his head again. "I forgot how quick she can go from zero to mad, and I'm not talking just the usual, she's irritated at me kind of mad. I'm talking _mad_." He pointed a finger at Rusty. "You know, a lot of people don't know this, but she's got a temper. It doesn't come out often, but when it does…" He whistled. "Let's just say I can think of a couple of detectives that are going to be working traffic next week."

"Really?" Rusty's brows shot up. "I'm kind of sorry I missed that. They sort of deserve it. But she wasn't freaked out, right? You told her that I'm okay."

"She knows." Jack patted the top of his briefcase. "I've got your stuff, wallet, phone, and the other things they took off you when you got here. I'm going to hang on to it, since you can't have it back yet. The other things that were in your car, your bag with your books and computer, SID has all of that. It will get transferred to Major Crimes. When Sharon gets here, if we don't have this cleared up yet, I'll hand this stuff over to her. So don't worry about it."

Rusty's eyes widened. "Sharon is on her way here?" He sat forward in his seat. "But what about her nephew? And that whole case up there. I mean, they still need her, right? She doesn't have to fly back yet. This is all stupid, and now that Major Crimes has it, they'll totally clear it up."

"Well, yeah," Jack hedged a bit. "The thing is, Rusty, if anyone had a reason to get rid of Phillip Stroh, it would be you. Not that I think you did it, or had anything to do with it," he added quickly. "The other thing is, you know Sharon." He shook his head. "In no universe anywhere was she going to stay in Oregon with you in trouble. Son trumps nephew, kid, and that's just the way it is. That's the way it's always going to be. Doesn't matter that it was you, it would be the same thing with Ricky or Emily. Don't get me wrong, she really adores the hell out of Danny, always did, but his mom can take care of him. It's her job to take care of you." He paused. "That's what she told me to tell you. Anyway, as soon as she can arrange a flight out, she'll be here to help clean this mess up."

"Great." Rusty's shoulders slumped again. Wonderful, now Sharon was all worried about _him_ again. Would it never stop? "Ever feel like you're living in a twilight zone?"

"You have no idea," Jack said drily. "Listen," he sat down again. "I'll wait with you until the old man and Sanchez get here. We'll figure it out."

Rusty squinted at him. "I'd thank you, but why do I get the feeling you're charging me by the hour?" When Jack smirked, he let his head fall back onto the table. Rusty groaned. "This is so coming out of my allowance."

**MCMCMCMCMCMC**

The door to his mother's room was open. When Ricky stepped inside, he found her packing, rather quickly. Andy was moving back and forth across the room, gathering items from the bathroom, clothes and anything else he could find, and dropping them onto the bed while his mother quickly placed them in her suitcase. "Mom." He drew her attention as he moved further into the room. "Granddad just told me that _dad_ called?" His brows lifted in surprise, "Rusty is in _jail_? Tell me that's a joke." Ricky had returned with his aunt and cousin to that news. He didn't believe it.

"I would like to." Sharon rolled a pair of jeans and stuffed them into her bag. "Unfortunately that's not the case." She shook her head. "Don't worry, it's all a misunderstanding. I'll clear it up when I get there. Meanwhile, your dad is handling it."

Ricky heard Andy snort, and couldn't help but agree with him. "You get that's not really filling me with a lot of confidence, right?" He shoved his hands into his pockets. "Mom, come on, _what_ is going on?"

"I don't know, Ricky." She stepped back from the bed and turned to look at him. She gestured helplessly. "I really have no idea. It's…" Sharon closed her eyes and exhaled quietly. "Rusty got pulled over on a minor traffic violation. The officers spotted something unusual with his car and asked to search it. Rusty cooperated, but they found something in his trunk."

"Like what? Overdue library books?" Ricky walked over and sat on the bed. "Come on, what could the kid possibly have done?"

"More like a body." Andy shoved his shaving kit into his own bag and looked around to make sure he hadn't missed anything. "Let's just say it looks like this case got a lot weirder in the last couple of hours."

Sharon ran a hand through her hair. "Phillip Stroh," she explained. "He was dead and stuffed into the trunk of Rusty's car. Obviously your brother didn't do it, but the incompetent imbeciles—"

"She's a little upset," Andy pointed out, when she trailed off to stalk across the room and snatch up her favorite sweater. "Apparently Rusty got pulled over hours ago. Hollywood Division has it, and they're not known for being the brightest badges in the city."

"Okay," Ricky said slowly. "But how did dad get involved?" That part was throwing him or a bit of a loop.

"They haven't charged Rusty with anything yet," Sharon said. "So while he was being held, he wasn't entitled to a phone call yet. From what Jack said, he did request to speak to several people within the department, and when those requests were not met, he did the only other thing he knew to do."

"He lawyered up." Andy shrugged. He might have issues with the ex-husband, and God only knew he didn't like the son of a bitch, but as far as lawyers went he was as big a dirtbag as the rest of them. "In his defense, Rusty called Gavin first."

"Who is in Chicago at a conference," Sharon stated. "Although that wouldn't have mattered. Gavin doesn't handle criminal cases, but in an emergency situation, he would have been my choice too. In any event, Rusty couldn't reach him, so he called your father." Sharon stopped her packing and sighed. She covered her face with one hand. "Dammit! I might actually owe him a favor now."

Ricky cleared his throat when he was tempted to laugh. "I'm pretty sure you'll find a way to get out of that," he said instead. He rubbed his hands against his jeans. "Can I do anything to help?"

Her hand dropped. Sharon walked back over to the bed. "No, honey." She ran a hand through his hair and smiled at him. "I'm sure we'll get this cleared up soon, unfortunately, it just requires my being there. What you can do is stay here, keep an eye on things? Don't let your grandparents worry too much, and take care of Danny."

"I can do that." Ricky smiled up at her. "Tell the kid I said hi. Oh, and that he's grounded. Oh _and_ that I'm never getting in that car again."

Sharon rolled her eyes at him. She gave his shoulder a playful shrug. "Go away and let me pack."

"I'm going." Ricky stood up. "Come find me before you leave, okay?"

"I wouldn't leave without telling you." She let her hand trail down his arm. "Ricky, I love you, but…"

"Yeah okay," He smiled, even as he nodded. "Rusty's in trouble." Ricky's dark eyes glinted playfully. "Wow, it must be Tuesday."

Sharon pointed a finger at Andy before he could even think about laughing. "Do _not_." She glared at him, although it lacked much in the way of heat.

He put his hands up, but he was smiling. "I didn't say a thing." They both knew that he was thinking it, though. Andy walked over and dropped the last of her things into her bag. "Our flight leaves in an hour, Sharon. We should really hurry." They were going to work the case from Los Angeles, _after_ they cleared up the situation with Rusty.

She took a moment to look around the room. She didn't see anything else that needed to be packed, not that she had brought much with her to begin with. It was only meant to be a short trip. Sharon nodded once and reached out to zip her bag. "I'm set." She lifted it off the bed, then pulled the straps of her purse and laptop case over her shoulder.

Andy took them from her. "I'll take all of this down to the car so you can go and say goodbye to the family."

Her hand touched his arm. "Thank you." She knew that he was just as worried about Rusty as she was. The entire situation seemed to be spinning out of control. They had more questions now than before, but Los Angeles seemed to be the place to get them answered. In any event, it was where she was needed.

While Andy managed the bags, Sharon moved ahead of him. Her parents were waiting in her father's study. Sharon took the stairs quickly, and found Ricky still lingering near the base of them. She slipped an arm around him as she walked toward the other side of the house. "I'll call you as soon as I get there," she told him, "and again when we have this mess cleaned up."

"Are you sure that you don't need me to come with you?" Ricky looked down at her. He worried about her, taking all of this on, and especially now that it seemed his dad was involved.

"I'm certain." She hugged him to her. "Stay here, Ricky. Look after the family. I really don't like leaving them right now." Sharon also worried that whoever had killed Denise, had moved on to Los Angeles, and she didn't want another child there, where he could possibly be in danger.

"I can do that," he said again, reiterating his promise from upstairs. "Just, you know, take care of yourself too, okay? You're not the only one who worries, Mom."

"Yes I know." She smiled up at him. "I will do my best. Really, honey, you don't have to—"

"Sharon." Richard strode toward her, not from the direction of his study, but from the front of the house. There were two deputies behind him. He stopped in front of her, gestured to the men behind him. His gaze swept his daughter, his grandson, and the Lieutenant that was never far from her side. "These gentlemen need to speak with you."

It was Deputy Andrews again, along with Deputy Walker. "Ma'am," Andrews nodded to her. "A little while ago, we picked up a young woman that was found wandering along the side of the road, out on Highway 126. She wasn't very coherent, and she didn't seem to be in that great a shape. Not overly injured, but she had some minor cuts and bruises, and she had been walking for a while, barefoot, in just a pair of shorts and an old t-shirt. She was taken to the hospital down in Bend. Doctors there determined that she had been drugged."

Sharon shook her head at him. "Another victim?" She looked from the deputies to her father and back again. "Is it possible this one got away from our suspect? Has she said anything?" If they had a live victim, possibly a witness, then there was a good chance they could identify the person responsible for the murders.

"No ma'am," he said. "But we've been able to identify her. The only thing she had on her was a single piece of identification, tucked into the back pocket of her shorts."

"Sharon." Richard took another step forward. He laid a hand on her shoulder. His eyes were grim, and his voice was grave. "It's Emily."

**-TBC-**


	11. Chapter 11

**Home and Hearts Aflame**

**by Kadi  
Rated: T**

**Disclaimer: **I do love this sandbox, but sadly it is not mine.

**A/N:** Special Thanks to **OldFashionedGrl** for listening to my late night ramblings and helping with my grammar quandaries. You rock!

* * *

**Chapter 11**

He had never been on a plane before. His first time was shaping up to be the weirdest experience of his life. One thing that he learned about flying, apparently planes didn't just go anywhere, all the time, and sometimes getting to your destination meant doing a lot of jumping to different places. For example, there were no flights out of Los Angeles to Redmond, Oregon at eight o'clock at night. That was when Rusty got officially released by the department and declared _not_ a suspect in the death of Phillip Stroh.

All of that was still a jumble in his head. One minute he was sitting in the Murder Room, waiting for Sharon to show up, and the next… things changed drastically. Lieutenant Provenza had gotten a call; Rusty found out later that it was from Flynn. They were actually sitting in the conference room attached to Sharon's office, he and his _lawyer_, while they waited for things to get cleared up. The Lieutenant had come in, looking all grim and worried, and sat them down.

That was when he told them about Emily.

He didn't have a lot of details. They were still trying to figure out what Emily was doing in Oregon and why she wasn't in New York. They were also trying to figure out why she had not been reported missing, as it looked like she had been held for a couple of days before either being released, or escaping. They just didn't _know_.

The Lieutenant told them that Sharon was asking Jack, as a personal favor to her, to stay put. At least for now. She would send along an update, as soon as she had one, but Rusty still needed help. Obviously, she wasn't coming home. She was staying in Oregon, with Emily, who was now in a hospital in Bend and being treated by doctors.

Then the Lieutenant told him something else that sent his head to spinning. Rusty had an alibi. There was no way that he had killed Stroh, although no one really believed that he had, but they had proof. Sharon had hired private security to keep an eye on him twenty-four hours a day. Even when he was at home, they were nearby. Rusty hadn't deviated from his usual schedule, and he hadn't been anywhere near Stroh. They had surveillance enough to prove it. They only needed the okay from Sharon to intervene. Their number one priority was keeping Rusty safe, but it was imperative that he never know they were present.

Rusty wasn't going to lie. That one sent him over the edge. He told her that he didn't want protection. He told her that he wasn't going to live in a prison. She had gone behind his back and done it anyway? And then she lied to him? All these months, she was lying to him?

The Lieutenant put him in his place pretty quick after that. How did he think Sharon could sleep at night? It was only knowing that he was protected that allowed her to take her eyes off of him, even for a moment. Did he really think that the woman who had devoted the last few years of her life to keeping him safe was going to just _stop_? Because he asked? That was a pretty dumb assumption to make, and they both knew it.

Then he was reminded that it was private security, not police protection. He was allowed to go and do whatever he wanted. They were simply keeping an eye on him, looking for trouble, watching for danger. His actions and habits were not reported back to the Captain, it was only a means of protecting him. They had sat on his arrest for that reason. Now that they had instruction, they could intervene. The squad was going to look over the information that Rusty's security team had, and then with any luck, he'd be going home.

Only, Rusty didn't go home. At least not for longer than it took for him to pack a bag. The minute he was released, completely, he started trying to figure out how to book a flight to Oregon. Something serious was definitely going on. Someone had killed Sharon's nephew's girlfriend. Someone had killed Phillip Stroh, and it was looking like, that same someone, had somehow managed to kidnap Emily without anyone knowing about it. Rusty wasn't staying in LA, he didn't care if he did have private protection.

That was how he ended up flying to Portland. They couldn't get a flight to Redmond, not before mid-morning the following day. What they could do was fly to Portland, and from there, take a quick flight to Redmond.

Jack was going with him.

Rusty was oddly surprised by that. Then he realized that he shouldn't be. Emily was his daughter too. Whatever was going on, it now involved him. He was also surprised that Jack booked both of the flights and didn't bat an eye about it. Rusty insisted he could pay for his own, Jack told him to pack a damned bag and get in the car.

The flight out of Los Angeles got them into Portland, and they only just barely made the flight to Redmond. It put them getting in pretty late, near eleven at night. Then they drove the few miles down to Bend, where the hospital was. It wasn't a big town, not by LA standards, and so it wasn't a very big hospital either; just a few floors. Emily was up on the second floor.

They rode the elevator in silence. It only took a couple of minutes. After stepping out on the second floor, they walked down a long hall and around a couple of bends, following the signs toward the section of room numbers where they knew Emily was being held. When they rounded a final corner, Rusty finally spotted Sharon. He felt a sense of relief that he couldn't quite describe, and had never before felt, sweep over him in that instant. He stopped walking, though, and just stared.

She was standing in the hall, eyes focused on a window in front of her. He could only guess that Emily was on the other side, and didn't know why Sharon was out in the hall rather than in _there_, with her. Rusty didn't focus on that too much, however. Instead, he was struck by just how small she seemed. Sharon wasn't standing alone, Andy was standing behind her, and he had his arms folded around her. She was leaning against his chest, and her own arms seemed intertwined with his, while her hands gripped him tightly, as though trying to pull him closer, more securely around her. She looked pale, Rusty thought, and far more tired, drawn, and worried than he had ever seen her look before.

It only took Rusty a moment to realize what, about her appearance, was so startling to him. He had seen Sharon look worried before. He had seen her mad. He had even been witness to her fatigue. Rusty had never seen her look _scared_ before. Throughout everything that they had been through, everything that _he_ put her through, she was always the strong one. Rusty could always look to her and feel better, stronger somehow. He knew that she worried for him, that she was frightened for him. She never let him _see_ it. Not like this.

In that moment Rusty forgot that he was upset with her. He didn't care about the private security anymore. What he had asked and what she had done, none of that mattered at all. He was realizing now why she had done it. _This_. This moment, this feeling, the hell that she was currently experiencing, that was exactly why she had done what she thought was best and not told him about it. She protected him. She saved him. _Again_.

Yes, learning that life was not all just about him, that was a lesson that he needed to keep working on.

Rusty drew a quick breath. He let it fill him. His shoulders squared and he lifted his chin. He took another step forward. "Sharon."

The sound of his voice drew her attention. Her head turned. She exhaled quickly and moved out of the arms that were holding her. "Rusty."

She met him half way. Then she was holding onto him, just as tightly as he was holding on to her. Rusty turned his face into her hair and let all the uncertainty, all the doubt and the fear of the last few hours fade to nothing. It didn't matter any longer, what the idiots at Hollywood Division had put him through. Sharon was here, and he was okay, and that was all that mattered. Rusty pulled back after a moment. His gaze swept over her. Up close, she looked even more drawn than he originally thought. The lines around her eyes and mouth were more prominent. Rusty felt a little less relieved. "How's Emily?" he asked.

"A little more coherent." Sharon cupped his face. She managed a small smile, and despite whatever danger might be surrounding them, she was glad to have him close. "Missed you."

"Me too." Rusty gave her a small grin. "Especially today. All that is cleared up. Thanks to you, and the totally unasked for private security that has been following me around everywhere." He arched a brow, and managed a better smile, so that she would know that it was okay, just in case she was worried about it. "Between that, and my not too bad lawyer, my suspect status was short lived. Oh, and apparently, I'm not a witness anymore either." Rusty hooked a thumb at Jack, just in case Sharon hadn't noticed him yet. "He even got me out of the traffic ticket. Think he'll take a payment plan?"

Sharon closed her eyes. She was grateful to Jack, truly, but it was hard to focus on that at the moment. Instead, she just let her hand stroke down Rusty's arm as she let go of him. "He's not going to be billing us. Are you Jack?"

She looked at him, finally. He had his hands shoved into his pockets. The truth was he was awkward here. He was never really all that comfortable around Sharon's family. It started the first time he met them, and whatever triumph he might have felt, at having won her away from them, was all short lived in those early years. "No." He stepped forward finally, came to a stop beside Rusty. "We'll call it a wash this time, kid. But if you get in trouble again…"

"I'll hope Gavin isn't out of town?" Rusty said, brows lifted.

"I think the more appropriate response is, you won't get into trouble," Sharon stated. She stepped aside and waved her arm toward Emily's room. "She's down here," she said quietly.

Rusty nodded. He walked around Sharon and headed down the hall. He spotted Ricky leaning against the wall on Andy's other side. "Hey."

"Little brother." Ricky pushed away from the wall, but kept his arms folded across his chest. "Interesting day."

"That's one way of putting it." Rusty sighed. "What happened?"

"We still don't know," Andy said. "We're waiting for Emily to be able to tell us."

"Sharon said that she was more coherent," Rusty said. "That's good, right?" He turned where he stood and gazed through the window, into her room. There was a nurse present, checking the machines and taking notes. There weren't a lot of them, the machines, just what looked like a heart monitor and something that was measuring her IV. Emily's eyes were closed. She was pale. There was a cut across one cheek, and a bruise on her forehead, above her right eye. There were scratches on her arms, at least what he could see of them.

"Yeah," Andy said. "It's good. She's just not all the way back yet. They're flushing her system, so it might be tomorrow." He arched a brow, gazed down the hall, where Sharon was still talking to Jack. Dealing with him wasn't what she needed right now, but they couldn't really make him leave. He was helpful, and Emily was his daughter too. Didn't mean that any of them had to like it.

"They found her wandering, incoherent and dehydrated, out on one of the rural highways," Sharon spoke quietly. She had her arms wrapped around herself as she brought Jack up to speed with what they knew. "From what we can determine, she was held since at least Monday night. Ricky tells me that, Emily and her boyfriend, Samuel, are living together now." Emily had spoken of Sam, but only in passing. She had not mentioned their relationship being quite so serious. "I called Sam," Sharon continued. "He said that Emily left New York on Monday. She was coming here to be with the family. He didn't report her missing, because as far as he knew, she wasn't." Sharon ground her teeth together, now came the truly chilling part. "And he's been getting regular text messages from her phone. Updates on how things were going here."

Jack nodded as they took all of that in. He ran a hand through his hair, then again to smooth it down. He sighed. "How do we know he's not involved somehow? I mean, who is this guy? She didn't tell anyone that she was moving in with some guy back east. I mean, _you_ didn't know either. What the hell is going on here, Sharon?"

"I don't know, Jack." She shrugged. "I do know that Sam is not involved. We've checked into that. He's an advertising exec. He's been in and out of meetings all week. There are dozens of people in New York who can account for his whereabouts. Sam couldn't get a flight out tonight," Sharon said, "but he will be here in the morning. Hopefully, we'll know more then, and Emily will be able to fill in the blanks."

He shifted where he stood, sighed again. "What happened to her?" Jack stared at his ex-wife, and whatever had happened between them, his worry was just as real. There had been a time when they were happy. When Emily was still his princess, and Sharon was his love, and it seemed they had a real future ahead of them. "What did this creep do?"

The questions were quiet, barely above a whisper. "She's been drugged," Sharon said. "That's all. There are no signs of physical or sexual abuse. Her injuries look like they were sustained after she escaped, or was let go. She has some cuts and bruises, a few scratches." Sharon hesitated; she looked down. She exhaled a quiet, shuddering breath. "Her feet are the worst of it."

Jack felt his stomach clench. "Her feet?" He gestured helplessly with his hands before they found his hips. "What happened to her feet? Sharon…"

"She was walking barefoot, Jack. It's a rural highway. There was gravel, pavement, and dirt. We don't know for how long. Hours, possibly. There are some cuts and blisters. One of them has a pretty nasty infection, but they're treating that. Her left foot is broken in two places, small breaks, near her toes."

There was only one thing that Emily had ever wanted to do in life. Jack took a step back. He turned slightly, scrubbed a hand across his face. His shoulders slumped. "Will she ever dance again?"

"We don't know." Sharon shook her head. "The orthopedist will be in to tell us tomorrow. The doctors we spoke to tonight couldn't answer that question. I think it's going to depend on how well the injuries heal. The breaks weren't bad, but the location makes them complicated. Specifically for a dancer." Sharon ran a hand through her hair. "We simply don't have a lot of answers right now, Jack. Emily is stable, and they're flushing the drugs out of her system. She's safe now, and she's going to heal. When she's conscious enough, we're hoping that she can tell us what happened, and at the very least, _who_ is responsible." She hesitated, for just a moment, but Sharon reached out and touched his arm. "Emily is going to be okay."

Movement beside them drew Jack's attention before he could respond. He looked over, and found Ricky standing beside his mother. "Son." The moment was stilted, awkward, just as most of their moments were or had become, particularly since the divorce.

"Hey Dad." Ricky looked down at his mother. "I've got Rusty up to speed." He figured she didn't want to explain what happened more than once. "I think we're going to take off. There isn't anything we can do here tonight. I'll take Rusty back to the house with me and get him settled in. We'll come back first thing tomorrow." He thought that she should do the same thing, but he was going to let Andy handle that.

"Thank you, honey." Sharon lay a hand on his shoulder and let it slide down his arm. "I think that's the best thing that either of you can do tonight." She drew her bottom lip between her teeth. "I had hoped the first time he met your grandparents would be under much better circumstances," and that she would be with him, she thought.

"Say the word," Ricky dropped an arm around her shoulders, "I'm good at sneaking out of the house. I can have him back here before they ever spot him."

Sharon closed her eyes. The corners of her mouth twitched toward a small smile. "Behave." She wrapped an arm around him, hugged her son to her. "I'll see you in the morning."

"You will," he promised. Ricky kissed the top of her head. "We'll be careful," he added, before she could say it.

"I know." Sharon turned into the hug, held him for just a moment longer before stepping back. Her gaze swept past him, to Rusty. She beckoned her younger son over. "Ricky is going to take you back to the house," she explained. "I'll see you in the morning. Rusty," she sighed. "I know that it's going to be awkward. I'm sorry that I won't be there in the morning when you meet everyone, but Ricky will be with you, and…"

"It's okay." Rusty shrugged. "Really, Sharon. It's fine. This is where you need to be, and I'm really okay with that. Besides, whatever they think about Ricky being the cool son, I'll have plenty of time to completely change their minds. Don't worry about it. Seriously. We've got this covered." He leaned in and hugged her. They were more open, affectionately, now, but even two hugs in a short span of time was unheard of. Rusty didn't care. She looked like she needed it.

"Hm." She smiled as she hugged him. "I'm really proud of you," she whispered. Even a year ago he would have balked at the idea of being alone with her family. He had come so far, and she would never stop marveling at his resilience. "Get some rest, Rusty." Sharon leaned back. She reached up and swept a lock of hair away from his brow. "We'll talk more tomorrow."

"You too," Rusty said. He shoved his hands into his pockets. "You look tired, Sharon. Maybe you should go home too, get some sleep."

"We'll see." She had no intention of leaving Emily. "Go on." She folded her arms over her chest again. Sharon's gaze settled on both of her sons. "Be good," she admonished gently.

"Who? Us?" Ricky grinned. "I'm not the one getting arrested…" When everyone, including his dad, turned and fixed him with a hard stare, he sighed. "Too soon?"

"A little." Andy had wandered closer. He laid his hands on Sharon's shoulders. He didn't draw her back, but he was tempted to. He could feel the tension that was knotting her shoulders and neck. He would like to talk her into leaving too, but he doubted that would really happen. "You boys should go on. It's getting late."

"We're going." Rusty grabbed Ricky's arm and gave him a light shove down the hall. "We'll be back. Don't worry; I'll keep an eye on him."

"Thank you, Rusty." Sharon smiled tiredly as they left.

"Come on," Andy said quietly. He gave her shoulders a squeeze. He turned her back toward the row of chairs outside of Emily's room. "If I can't talk you into going home, let's go sit down."

Jack's brows rose when she leaned in to him. The kids had mentioned this, and he had seen enough over the last year to have a pretty good idea what was going on. "Figured this was where you were, when I didn't see you hanging round the Murder Room."

Sharon sighed. "Jack." She shot a look at him and shook her head. She was not going to play mediator between the two men. She didn't have the patience for it at present, and it wasn't the time or place. Her relationships were no longer his concern. If he wanted her to be honest about it, they hadn't been for a good number of years.

He stared back at her. There was a warning in her gaze. Jack sighed. "Alright. Fine." He would let it go, in so much as he could. Jack shoved his hands into his pockets and trailed along behind them. He snorted quietly when they took a seat, and Andy put Sharon on the end. He sat a couple of seats away and leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.

From the corner of his eye, Jack watched his wife, ex-wife he corrected, lean into the man beside her. He sighed again. It was shaping up to be a long damned night.

**MCMCMCMCMCMC**

Breakfast was an usual affair. Rusty stood to one side of the kitchen, watching as an older woman moved around, placing food on the table. He looked up when Ricky joined him. "Is there coffee?"

"Yeah, it's over there," he nodded to the counter where the coffee maker stood, carafe still half full. "Cups are in the cabinet above. Come on, don't be a spaz." Ricky nudged him. When they had gotten back to the house the night before, only Danny had still been up. He had introduced the new little brother to the cousin, but everyone else had been in bed. Ricky decided he had better take care of that now. "Gram. Granddad." Ricky walked over and took down two mugs. He filled both of them with coffee before taking his and finding a seat at the table. "Meet Rusty. He got in last night."

Rusty picked up the cup and followed his brother. He stood awkwardly behind the empty chair to Ricky's left. "Hi." All eyes were on him now, and Rusty had the urge to run, but stood his ground. He was reminded that this was Sharon's family, his family now. "I'm sorry to just show up like this. We got here really late. Jack brought me. He's at the hospital with Sharon and Andy, and… yeah."

Ricky rolled his eyes. "What did I just say?" He looked across the table at Daniel and hooked a thumb at his brother. "Spaz."

"Give him a break." Daniel remembered, keenly, how Denise had felt meeting the family for the first time. It was a lot to take in, for someone who felt like they came from the wrong side of the tracks, so to speak. He could imagine how it might feel to someone who was adopted and meeting his new family for the first time, especially without his mother there to kind of facilitate it all.

Richard grunted quietly. He was afraid Jack might show up. It was always a crap shoot with that one, whether he would remember he was a father or not. This time it seemed that he was deciding to play that card. He stood up from his seat at the head of the breakfast table and walked around to greet the newcomer, all the while, studying the boy that they had heard so much about. A bit of a nervous thing, but that was to be expected, all things considered. Not exactly how Richard expected his girl would have this go. Then again, they all had other worries on their minds at present. "Rusty." He held out a hand. "Welcome. It's good to finally meet you. We've been hearing a lot."

"All good." Karen stated, because she knew that her husband would expect that it was implied. She joined the pair of them and smiled pleasantly. Her hands were clasped in front of her. "Rusty, we're glad that you decided to join us. We don't know what's going on, but we didn't like thinking about you down in LA, all by yourself." She touched his arm, just lightly, because she remembered Sharon mentioning that he didn't like being touched. "Go ahead and have a seat. We don't stand on ceremony around here."

"Thank you." Rusty still shifted a bit nervously. "Sharon has been wanting to come up, get the whole introduction out of the way. I'm sorry we're having to do it with all of this other stuff going on. It's really great to meet both of you." He shook her father's hand, smiled at her mother, and tried to not look too awkward.

"Yes, we understand." Richard stood back. He studied the boy for another minute before walking back around to reclaim his seat at the table. "Go on, sit down," he waved him into the chair beside Ricky. "It's not going to be much of a visit. We'll see to it that Sharon brings you back."

Rusty smiled at that. He was having a hard time imagining anyone making Sharon do _anything_. "Yes sir." He slipped into the chair beside Ricky. "I'd like that."

When her grandson snorted, Karen tapped Ricky on the head. "Behave you." She waved a hand at the rest of the table, and the others present. "I'm sure you'll end up meeting more people than you'll be able to keep track of over the next couple of days. This is Evelyn, Sharon's sister, and her husband Jacob."

"Rusty." Evelyn smiled, while her husband waved. She'd had lengthy conversations with her sister about this boy. "It's good to meet you. Sharon speaks of you often." His blush made her smile wider. "Welcome to the family." The adoption was something that her sister had considered for a long time, before she finally did it.

"There's a lot of them," Jacob said. "You'll get used to it. Rule number one, don't let them see you sweat." When his wife elbowed him, he grinned crookedly.

Karen walked to the counter and returned with the platter of bacon. This she set in the center of the table before taking a seat near her husband. "Rusty, were you able to see Sharon last night? I know she was worried about you, and that mess in LA yesterday."

"I did." He nodded. "Jack and I went to the hospital first. That's where I met up with Ricky." Rusty took dishes when they were passed to him, and filled his own plate. "We left them there. They all seemed to want to stay. I was hoping that Andy would be able to get Sharon to leave, but I guess not."

"No, I imagine that he couldn't." Karen couldn't say that she would have left either. "Don't worry," she told the boys. "Your mother is made of some pretty stern stuff. So is your sister. Richard and I will be making our way to the hospital too, but I'll send some things along with you boys this morning. I'm sure Sharon and Andy can use a change of clothes, and I can't imagine Emily will be very comfortable either. She left some things here when she visited last summer. I'm sure there is something in the lot that she'll be comfortable in."

Rusty shared a look with his brother before he let his gaze move back to Sharon's mother. "If there's not, we can totally stop on our way to the hospital. We don't mind picking up some things for Emily." He looked at his brother again. "We should maybe pick up some coffee and food too." Rusty was trying to imagine Andy having to deal with Jack without coffee and it wasn't a pretty picture. At least, not without decent coffee, and everything he ever heard about hospitals didn't indicate the coffee or the food were all that great.

Karen reached over and tapped Richard's arm. She flashed a wide, warm smile. All the things that they had heard, good and bad; and with all the trouble and worry, and chaos that was going on in Los Angeles, this was the boy that their daughter adored. He was nervous with so many people around him that he didn't know, and if she didn't miss her guess, he'd like nothing more than to get out of there. Instead, he sat, politely filling his plate and nursing his coffee, and thinking of others besides himself. He'd had a hard life, Sharon had mentioned as much, and Ricky had filled in a few pieces of that puzzle for them too. It was written on his face, and in the uneasy glint in his eyes. Underneath it was a boy that wanted to be accepted, although not entirely for himself.

"I think," Karen said, "that might be a better idea. I know Emily will appreciate it, and I'm sure your mother will too. We'll talk about it again when you boys get ready to leave."

Richard nodded while his wife spoke. He chose to keep quiet on the matter. He didn't see any reason to embarrass the boy. While he watched, and the conversation shifted, the boy seemed to settle in just fine. Rusty spoke to Evelyn about her design firm, and was surprised that she was the one who had decorated Sharon's condo some years before. Jacob asked about his classes, and Rusty assured them he wasn't missing anything important by being in Oregon rather than Los Angeles. He had another week before he would have to deal with deadlines or exams, and was pretty sure he could get a note from DDA Hobbs about exigent circumstances if he needed more time. Throughout all of it, he bantered with Ricky as though the two of them had been doing that their whole lives.

As breakfast wrapped up, Evelyn and Daniel took their leave. They were headed back out to the Matthews home. Daniel was helping Denise's mother plan her funeral, in so much as they could without a body having been released, or knowing _when _it would be released.

Ricky and Rusty offered to clean up after breakfast, but Karen shooed them away. She knew that they would both rather be on their way to the hospital. She sent along the family's best wishes, and the promise to join them soon.

As they left, Richard walked with them as far as the porch. "We'll be along soon," he said, reiterating his wife's plan for the day. "Ricky, we'll do what we can to get your mother to leave for a while. Let your grandmother handle it, she has a way with that stubborn streak." His gaze swept over the other one and he nodded once. "Keep an eye on your brother, you know she worries."

Rusty stared. Even as Sharon's father went back into the house, he remained rooted to his spot, on the second porch step. It was really only Sharon that had claimed him before, and the whole _little brother_ thing had always been a bit of a joke between him and Ricky, dating back to that first disastrous meeting the previous summer. Sure, he and Emily claimed him _now_, but it had taken time and effort, and not wanting to disappoint Sharon. Rusty turned, slowly, where he stood and stuffed his hands into his pockets.

He looked a little dazed. Ricky laughed quietly. That was just his granddad, always dropping the huge surprises in the most subtle way. "Come on, I don't think there's actually a Starbucks in Redmond or Bend, but we'll figure something out." He nudged Rusty's shoulder as he walked past him. "I figure she's going to need something strong after dealing with Dad all night."

Rusty followed at a more sedate pace. "It was Andy that I was more worried about. No offense, but Jack knows which buttons to push with him, and I'm wondering how long he was able to behave last night. I know that he's all worried about Emily, but old habits and all that."

"No, I understand." Ricky sighed. "I was a little worried about that too. I mean, Dad's been hinting that mom was dating Andy for a year, even before they were actually together. He's not a big fan. Mainly, he's just jealous, you know?" Ricky opened the car and slid in on the driver's side. "He played that _changed man_ card with mom so many times, and it never really worked. I guess, mostly, because he wasn't really all that changed and she could see it. Even when we couldn't, mom could. Now there's this guy, and he's got a similar history, and she's okay with it, but for dad she never was. So I kind of get it, I'm not saying it's right, just that I think I might understand what's going on inside his head."

"No, I agree." Rusty settled in on the passenger side. "Your dad couldn't see the damage he was doing until it was too late. Now I think he might. When I talked to him about it a few months ago, he seemed to get it. Emily said that he had been better, right? Maybe realizing she was actually _gone_ this time, and the divorce was final, and she wasn't changing her mind was what he needed to wake up. Now she's moved on, and he's got to do the same thing." Rusty shrugged. "I just don't really expect him to be perfectly behaved, that's all."

"Neither do I." Ricky started the car. "So I'm thinking really strong coffee and some actual food."

"Right." Rusty leaned back in his seat. "Do they have a place around here that does that? I've never actually been in a town this small, and where do we shop at for Emily?"

Ricky grinned. "Target. It's about all we've got that will be open this early. Don't worry; it will be fine. Not like we're getting her more than pajamas and a toothbrush."

"Really." Rusty stared at him. "You grew up in a house with her, and Sharon, and you think that's all she needs? You really don't know anything about women do you?"

"What?" Ricky made a face at him. "It's a hospital. It's not like she's going to be socializing. What more could she possibly need?"

Rusty just shook his head. "Do me a favor. Never shop for me. Ever."

"Oh like you know so much about it." Ricky rolled his eyes. "All you wear are hoodies and t-shirts."

He looked down at the clothes he was wearing. Rusty fixed his brother with a look. "This is Calvin Klein," he said slowly, as if he had expected Ricky to know that. "Man, I thought it was just the hair. Are we sure that she didn't adopt _you_?"

"Fine," Ricky said. "You shop for Emily, and I'll handle the food." He paused for a moment, slanted a look at his brother. "And I'm totally telling mom that you were picking on the hair again."

Rusty just rolled his eyes. He let his gaze wonder out the window as the countryside passed by. It was weird, being this far away from a large city. The air was clean, and he could actually see the sky, not just some hazy, smog-filled thing that was supposed to be the sky.

As they drove, Rusty's mind drifted. Phillip Stroh might be dead and he wasn't a witness anymore. With all of that, nothing had really changed. Emily was probably going to be okay. Someone was still out there doing all of these things, and no one had the first clue who it was. It was weird, and Rusty didn't know how to explain it, or even if he understood it. He felt a lot safer before, when it was just Phillip Stroh that he had to worry about. Now, he didn't know who was after him, or _them_ actually, and he didn't know why.

What he did know was that there was a letter, in an envelope, and it felt like lead in his pocket. He hadn't told Jack about it, and he hadn't told Sharon, and he wasn't going to tell Ricky. Not yet. Everyone had enough to worry about with Emily, and the murders. It was waiting for him, when he stepped into the condo to pack last night. Laying on the floor, like it had been slipped beneath the door. Rusty brought it with him, mainly because he didn't know who it should go to, the police back home, or the ones here? He would give it to Andy; let him decide what to do with it. They would have to tell Sharon. She needed to know, and he promised that he would never keep something like this from her again. He wasn't, not really. The timing just hadn't felt right. Everyone seemed to be involved now, and it was just such a mess.

It was a mess that felt horribly, terribly, familiar.

_Dear Rusty,_

_You thought it was over. I__'__m just getting started. _

_Sincerely, _

_A new friend. _


	12. Chapter 12

**Home and Hearts Aflame**

**by Kadi  
Rated: T**

**Disclaimer: **I do love this sandbox, but sadly it is not mine.

**A/N: **Sorry this was delayed. RL got a little busy this week! Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 12**

Emily was the first.

It was the first moment of heart stopping panic that she experienced in her young life, when she realized at only twenty-four years old that she was not just a few days _late_, and the nagging fatigue and nausea were not simply a matter of late hours and stress. She and Jack had only been married a couple of years at that point, still little more than newlyweds. Sharon was on second shift, still a patrol rookie by many standards, and Jack was only halfway through his second year of law school. They had talked about having children, in that way that many couples did, and they considered it to be a distant dream. They would both be finished with school; established in their careers, and Jack had said that he would get her a house.

They had a lot of big dreams back then.

She could remember that Jack had been just as dazed as she was. They were too young. They were just starting. Her salary was barely covering the rent on their small, one-bedroom apartment after they paid tuition and expenses with the limited student loans that would cover graduate school in those days.

Then had come another first. Shock had given way to joy. This was not another ribbon to add to her collection. It was not a trophy to place upon her shelf. Despite their plans and their dreams, life had managed to find a way to assert itself. Their plans took a new form, their dreams had room for a third. Jack had boasted to anyone who would listen, and although he had talked about wanting a son so badly that they could both picture it, the reality of a daughter had completely brightened their days.

It was the first time she felt abject happiness. In spite of the fear of being in charge of such a tiny life, and the bittersweetness of being separated from her family, they had been happy. She had not known how to be a mother, but she had learned. As Emily grew, so did she, and in her daughter she found many of her dreams already realized. The first gap that her relationship with Jack had caused with her family was bridged. With Emily she found a way to reconnect with her father, at least in some small way.

She was better prepared with Ricky, and far more experienced with Rusty. There were firsts with each of them; Ricky was her first son, and that alone had created a different experience. Rusty came with challenges, so grown in so many ways, and still just a child, younger than his years in many others. There were things to be learned, delightful surprises to be found, even now as each of them entered adulthood. Nothing could quite replace those first years, however, and all of the ways that she had learned to live and love outside of herself.

The fear of that first fever. The joy of a first word; delight at that first step. The first dance class, and the tears of the first day of school. Recitals and dates, broken hearts, and shared clothes. She had held her child, and they had laughed together as friends; gossiped together about boys, and clothes, and crushes. Ricky had not been old enough to understand, but the first time that Jack had left her, it was Emily who had climbed into her bed late at night. Her girl had patted her cheeks, wiped her tears, and offered her favored stuffed rabbit as a means of comfort.

Sharon lay beside Emily now. The fog began to lift, and her daughter began to stir near mid-morning. As she fought the lingering weight of sedation, and began to struggle in her unconscious state, Sharon slipped into the bed alongside her. She lay on her side, head propped in her hand, and stroked her fingers through her daughter's hair, much as she had when her girl was still a child. When she began to whimper, Sharon crooned softly. She hummed quietly and guided her girl back to the land of the waking. As Emily's lids began to flutter, and she slowly became aware, Sharon drew a finger down the bridge of her nose.

"Come on, Emmy-bug," she murmured gently, "come back to me." Sharon smiled when her eyes opened. They were disoriented, those lovely brown eyes that had stolen her heart the first time that she looked into them. She had already loved her daughter, but it was not until finally holding her that first time that she had realized what it truly meant to have her heart no longer be her own. "Shh," she began carefully, while the backs of her fingers gently stroked the pale curve of her daughter's cheek. "You're okay." There was confusion first, and then there was fear. Emily's gaze swept the room, almost wild, before lighting on her mother again. "You're okay," Sharon said again, and gently cupped her chin.

She gasped. Her hand lifted and wrapped around her mother's wrist. Emily closed her eyes and shook her head against a jumble of images, much of which did not make a great deal of sense. "Mom." She took another quick breath. "What?"

"Breathe." She turned Emily's face toward her. "Just breathe, baby. You're safe." Jack had wounded her heart, but it was her children that had the power to break it. Every illness, every hurt, she ached with them. Emily's fear pulled at her now, and she fought the moisture stinging behind her eyes. "I'm right here, baby."

Her lungs burned a little less as she slowed her breathing. Emily exhaled quietly, slowly, and counted each breath until her head stopped swimming. It ached. There was a throbbing behind her eyes. As she lay there, eyes closed and concentrating on the sound of her mother's voice, the feel of her beside her, Emily began to realize that everything ached in some way or another. She took stock of the soreness in her body, and the pain in her lower legs and feet. When she tried to move, she felt weighed down. Her body felt heavy and sluggish, and oddly weak. She hummed softly and let her eyes open again. Emily focused on her mother.

Her throat was dry, and her voice scratched when she spoke. "What are you doing here?"

"Where else would I be?" Sharon smiled down at her. They would talk about _where_ they were in a moment. "Welcome back. We were worried about you." While she watched, the fear began to recede, but the confusion remained. "How much do you remember Emily?"

"I don't…" Emily frowned and shook her head, but groaned as that made it throb that much worse. "Hm." Her eyes fluttered closed for just a moment. "I'm not sure. I was waiting for a cab to the airport, it rang that it was downstairs. I think…" It was all a jumble, filled with fog and gaps. "I just don't know. I took my bag down. Then I think something hit me?" Emily reached up, winced as she touched her forehead. She remembered the glint of light as an object was swung at her, and then little of anything else. "Everything is dark after that, and I just remember moving. An ambulance maybe?" She drew her hand away and sighed. "Was I mugged? Someone must have gotten into the building."

Sharon stroked her cheek again. "No, it wasn't a mugging." She kept her voice soft, soothing. "Emily, honey, you're in Oregon. The police found you wandering out on the 126, west of town. We're not sure exactly how you got here; you didn't make your flight. It's been a few days since anyone saw you. A lot has happened since we last spoke." She traced the line of her daughter's nose again. "What we think is that you were kidnapped, and either escaped or were let go. We were hoping you could fill in the gaps for us."

Emily tried to think back, but there was too much fog. The images were disjointed. She shook her head again. "I don't know. I don't remember anyone." She blinked and tried to clear the haze that remained. "Oregon?" That had been her destination, but she had no recollection of arriving. Emily's eyes widened. "Oh god, Sam. He has to be going nuts by now!"

She tried to sit up, but Sharon eased her back again. "I spoke to him. Sam is okay. His plane landed half an hour ago; he should be here soon. He is very worried about you, but I assured him that you were going to be just fine." Sharon paused for a moment. "Emily, we didn't know that you were missing. Whoever took you was sending Sam regular text messages. He's feeling like a first class heel; maybe you can convince him that it wasn't his fault." That would give her daughter something to focus on, something that was outside of herself, as the reality of the situation began to set in.

Emily's mouth moved, but there was no sound forthcoming. Her breaths came quickly. She shook her head again. Her eyes fluttered and closed. Emily swallowed hard. "Mom, what is happening here?" She was more confused now than she was before.

Sharon sighed. Sadness clouded her eyes. "We just don't know, Emily. We're going to find out, I promise you, but right now, making sure that you are okay is what is important to all of us."

"Am I?" She had no memory of how she had gotten there, or what happened to her. She hurt all over. Emily looked down at herself, but saw nothing serious, beyond the scratches on her arms. Her leg was elevated, and her foot appeared to be in a surgical boot of some kind. "Mom?"

She sounded frightened. Sharon stroked her fingers through Emily's hair. "There are a couple of broken bones. Minor fractures. The orthopedist said they will heal. The boot is to keep them aligned. You were barefoot when we found you, so there are some cuts on both feet. One of them is deeply infected. The doctors are treating that. You were dehydrated and drugged, honey. Other than that, you appeared to be okay. There were no other injuries or signs of abuse."

Emily was nodding slowly. That much was a relief. She hadn't felt this badly since the time she and her friend Ashley had gotten so drunk on hurricanes at Mardis Gras that she had to crawl from the elevator to their hotel room. That helpless feeling coupled with memories of her father in a similar state had frightened her. Emily had sworn then that she would never drink that much again, and hadn't touched more than a glass or two of wine since. She breathed out slowly. "The ortho said the bones would heal; will I dance?"

Sharon's lips pursed. She considered her words carefully. "There is every reason to think that will happen," she said. "The doctor said it would depend on how well the bones heal. They're more concerned with the infection in your other foot. Right now you're responding to the antibiotics well, but if they have to do any extensive debridement, that could become questionable. Emily…" Sharon sighed. "Right now, everything looks good. The doctors here are being cautious. There is no reason at all to think that you won't be on stage again in a few months."

"Months." Emily's eyes closed again. She covered her face with her hand. She took a thin, shuddering breath. "I don't usually dance in the summer, so I suppose…" Her jaw clenched and she shook her head. "Mom, why is this happening?"

"I wish that I knew." Sharon wrapped an arm around her, held her close. "I'm going to find out, Emily. I promise you that. We will try to make sense of this." For now she was more concerned with keeping her children close; keeping them safe. "The only thing that I want you thinking about right now is getting well."

"How can I—" Emily trailed off as the door to her room opened.

They both looked up, and over, as a tall, broad shouldered man walked into the room. He wore a wool coat, and there was a leather duffel pulled over his shoulder. His gaze swept the room quickly, and landed on Emily. His bag was dropped, tossed near the wall and out of the way as he crossed the room. "Em."

"Sam." There was a sense of relief that swept over her. Emily swept a hand over her hair; she pushed it out of her face as she tried to sit up again.

Sharon slipped off the bed at the same moment that he reached it. She stood and smoothed her hands down over her sweater and jeans. It was difficult, recognizing that your children were not exactly children anymore, and it was not only your comfort that was needed. Sharon found that she could empathize with her parents now in a way that was missing before, although Emily was much older than she had been when Jack came into her life. She stood back and folded her arms across her chest, averted her gaze from the reunion taking place on her daughter's hospital bed.

Movement at the door drew Sharon's attention and she looked over. She sighed quietly. Jack was loitering there. That was another, entirely different source of frustration for her. He wanted to be present, and she was trying to be neutral. It was hard. Even if he was attempting to be on his best behavior, there were some attitudes that were so deeply ingrained, they could not easily be suppressed. Fatigue settled in; it was in the tightness in her shoulders and the ache in her back. She had done little more than nap for a few minutes all night, and her waking hours had been spent making polite conversation with her ex-husband, and anxious at the thought of the trouble he might cause with his usual lack of tact or forethought.

Whatever regret or jealousy he felt, it was no longer her issue. The problem was, however, Jack was so accustomed now to picking at Andy when the two men were together, the words slipped out without care or effort. He ignored him. Even as he tensed and ground his teeth together, Andy ignored every ill-placed comment, and they focused instead on the evidence that they had and trying to unravel the mystery of who was behind the murders and Emily's kidnapping.

Sharon looked beyond Jack. Her eyes easily found Andy. He stood in the hall, talking to Ricky and Rusty. She caught his eye and watched his brows lift. She smiled in response and let her attention shift back to Jack. Sharon waved him into the room and stepped further from the bed to make room. As Jack joined them, Sharon decided to draw her daughter's attention again.

"Emily." She tried to suppress a smile. The two young people on the bed seemed to have completely forgotten that anyone else was present. Her brows lifted in amusement, and in light of all of their worry, she enjoyed the thought of being able to delight in something so simple as young love.

They drew apart. Sam leaned back, but remained nearby, seated on the edge of her bed. Emily followed the sound of her mother's voice. She had to do a double take when she realized that her father was there too. "Dad?" She looked in askance to her mother. She had not seen them together in some time, and thought that even less likely since he had fallen off the wagon the previous winter.

"Hi baby girl." He walked forward and bent. He kissed the top of her head. Then he looked at the young man beside her. "You must be the Sam that we've heard so much about." Jack held out a hand.

"Yes." Sam shook his hand. His gaze moved back to Emily before he let his attention focus on her parents. "I'm sorry. Yes, I'm Sam. Uh. Samuel Patrick, he told them. He continued to hold one of Emily's hands as he introduced himself. "I'm sorry, I guess I should have said that before."

"We understand." Sharon smiled at them. "There are some moments in which decorum is simply not possible or necessary. I think this qualifies."

Emily stroked her hand along his arm. "Sam, my mother Sharon, and my dad Jack."

Her father shoved his hands into his pockets. "And Sam is your… roommate?"

Sharon pressed her lips together and looked at the floor. She shifted where she stood and cleared her throat. "_Jack_." Although she didn't look up, for concern that they would see her amusement, she did shake her head at him.

"Oh, like you weren't thinking it." Jack rolled his eyes at her. "Come on. She's barely mentioned him, and now they're living together. She definitely didn't tell us about it first." He waved a hand at his ex-wife. "Don't you think it's all happening a little fast?"

Emily found herself laughing. She and Sam looked at one other. She rolled her eyes at her parents. "I told you."

"You did." He grinned crookedly at her. She warned him that her mother would try to be carefully curious about it, but her father would be a bit like a bull in a China shop with his questions.

"Sam and I have known each other for most of our lives," Emily explained. Her hand stroked down his arm again.

"Since at least middle school, I think." Sam's head inclined as he thought back. He looked at her parents, blue eyes sparkling. "Emily and I were at Saint Joseph's together."

"Sam is from Los Angeles. His parents moved up the coast when they retired." She studied him, and then her parents. "I hated him." Emily shrugged. "He was an arrogant jock with a bad attitude."

"She was a stuck up princess," Sam replied. "I didn't have time for that." He nudged her shoulder with a smile. "We didn't exactly move in the same social circles. Who had time for ballet?"

"Football is such a barbaric sport," Emily teased, nose in the air.

"Says the girl who threw her ballet shoes at me once." A lock of dark hair fell across his brow and Sam swept it back. "You were a brat and you know it."

"You were cheating off me in Geometry." Emily poked his chest. "You deserved it, QB." She looked at her parents again and almost laughed. Her father looked confused, her mother was trying not to laugh herself.

"I passed didn't I?" Sam continued to grin. "After graduation," he explained, "I went to Alabama on a football scholarship. The problem with going to school on a scholarship is that when you get hurt, you lose it. I tore up my knee sophomore year and couldn't play anymore. I ended up going home to LA after that semester. Finished my two year degree at Santa Monica. My dad was a partner in an advertising firm. He put me to work, and I finished out my undergrad degree at UCLA. A few years ago, I managed to impress one of his bi-coastal clients. It got me a promotion and a transfer to our sister firm in New York. Finding Emily again was a complete accident."

"Emphasis on accident." She wrinkled her nose at him. "The clumsy oaf ran me down in the park."

"No one runs that early," Sam explained. "I glanced away from the jogging lane for a second. A _second_," he stressed. "Suddenly there she was, and we were all tangled up and trying not to eat pavement."

"While he was apologizing," Emily said, "I realized that I knew him. I just couldn't place him."

"I would have known that snotty attitude anywhere," Sam replied. "After we realized _who_ each other was, we went for coffee."

"We started realizing that we were passing each other in the park almost every morning," she said. "It was only a matter of safety for both of us if we just started running together."

"After a few weeks of that," Sam told them, "I finally decided to try asking her out again. I mean, she decimated me when I asked her to our junior prom. A guy doesn't recover from that kind of thing."

"The only problem was," Emily smiled sheepishly, "I had just broken up with Trevor. I wasn't ready to try seeing anyone else yet. So I asked him if we could be friends instead."

"Yep." Sam nodded slowly. "That was even worse than when she laughed at me junior year, but what is a guy going to do, right?"

"You were dating other girls the whole time," she poked him again. "I was just the chick you took to the game so you could complain about the date you had the night before; don't even try playing the poor puppy card." Emily rolled her eyes at him. "We started dating last year. Things seemed to finally… I don't know, line up the way they were supposed to."

"Keeping two apartments seemed like an unnecessary expense," Sam said, "when one of us was always with the other one anyway." He stared at Emily, and when she nodded, he turned his gaze on her parents. "Don't worry. I asked her to marry me first."

She wrapped both of her arms around one of his and leaned into him. Emily shrugged at her parents. "It's not the kind of thing we wanted to tell everyone over the phone. We weren't going to be able to both get back to California until summer, so we were planning to do it then."

"Married?" Sharon stared at her daughter. "Emily!" Throughout their tale, she chose to be amused. They were rather humorous, and there was something about them that seemed a bit familiar. That amusement had immediately given way to shock.

"Well," Emily sighed, as if put upon. "If you would retire and move to New York, these things would not come as such a surprise."

"If you would dance in LA, the same would be true," her mother shot back at her. She shook her head. Her lips parted as she exhaled. There had been no warning. Not even an inkling. "Emmy."

"You don't get to corner the market on falling for your best friend, Mom." They both knew that it was not her father that she was talking about. Emily leaned into Sam's embrace when his arms circled her. He was her comfort. She felt better, safer, and less like the world was a spinning haze with him there.

"I'm beginning to think that he's right." Sharon moved forward, past the still stunned Jackson. She cupped her daughter's face and leaned down to rest her forehead against Emily's. "You really are a bit of a brat," she said gently. Emily was gripping her arms again, while Sam leaned away from them. "Do you know how much you are loved, little bug?"

"More than any heart can hold," she whispered back. Emily smiled tearfully. "I found mine," she whispered, referencing a conversation they'd had some weeks before, about love and strength and finding not just a lover, but a partner.

"Well." Jack cleared his throat. He ran a hand through his hair. "That's…" He expected Sharon to get emotional. She always did where the kids were concerned. "Some news," he finally managed.

"I know." Sam gestured helplessly. "The deputies here want to talk to me when I have a minute. I don't know what else I can tell them, but I thought it might come out. I wanted Emily's family to be able to hear it from her first. We can still tell my parents when we planned. Or I can call them. They will understand."

Emily frowned at him. "Why are they talking to you? I don't understand." Her gaze swept the room. Her mother had stepped back, but was standing close. "Sam had nothing to do with any of this. Why is he being questioned?"

"We need to know if he saw anything," Sharon explained. "Any clue, even the smallest detail, could help us. They'll also be going over his phone records, since he was getting text messages from your phone. Just to try and identify any calls or texts which might stand out as unusual. Missed calls, wrong numbers, they can seem innocuous until something like this happens. It's all routine, honey," she touched her daughter's shoulder. "No one believes that Sam was involved. We're just trying to follow any lead that we can."

Emily scrubbed a hand over her face. "I just don't believe this is happening. First the trouble with Daniel, and now this."

"A lot has happened." Sharon looked around the room, settled on her ex-husband. "Why don't we let Emily rest, and I'm sure Sam would like a few minutes with her. We can discuss the case in more detail later, when she's feeling stronger."

"You don't have to leave." Sam had one of Emily's hands clasped tightly in his again. "Not on my account."

"I think it's a lot for Emily to take in right now," Sharon said. "I don't want to overwhelm her with too many people." There was a knock at the window. They all glanced over. Rusty and Ricky were standing there, the latter of which waved. "Case in point." She smiled at her sons, who were just as eager to see their sister. "We'll be back," Sharon promised. "Get some rest," she told her daughter.

"I will Mom." Emily smiled tiredly. She leaned her head against Sam's shoulder.

When he didn't seem inclined to budge, Sharon grabbed Jack's arm and turned him. "Let's go. You too, Jack." She had to give him a push to get him moving toward the door. Sharon followed, and as they stepped outside, she pulled the door closed behind her.

"How is she?"

"Did she remember anything?"

Sharon smiled at her sons. She leaned back against the closed door and let her shoulders slump, just a bit, beneath the weight of her own fatigue. She hummed quietly. "She's okay," she said, to Rusty's question. To Ricky, she replied, "She only just woke up. She doesn't remember very much. We'll give her some time to reorient."

"So that's Sam." Ricky was looking inside the room again. "Funny, I don't remember him. Big guy though."

"Well, you were a few grades behind them." Sharon pushed away from the door. She herded both of her boys away from the window to give her daughter some privacy. "Freshman don't exactly run in the same circles as Seniors, as I remember it. Or didn't you complain about that often enough?"

"Wasn't her friends I wanted, exactly." Ricky smirked. "Senior girls were hot. Especially the cheerleaders."

Sharon rolled her eyes at him. "Richard." Jack was laughing, and it earned him a glare. "Do not encourage him."

"He doesn't need encouragement," Rusty muttered.

"Don't listen to him." Ricky grinned widely. "He's still upset the barista was flirting with him, but I got her number. Not like he was interested."

"I wasn't," Rusty said. "It's the principle of it. If she was interested in you, she would have flirted with you. Getting her number because you're with me is just cheating. It's kind of cheap, and just a little bit lazy."

Ricky rubbed his forehead and shook his head. "Are you teaching him nothing?" He looked at Andy. "I'm guessing the words _wing_ and _man_ are completely lost on him?"

Andy threw his hands up. "I'm not teaching him anything. Your mom has rules. I'm past needing a wingman, so the lessons wouldn't do him any good anyway."

His snort drew another glare. Jack sighed. There was quite a lot he could say on the matter, but he decided not to. Instead, he glanced back toward his daughter's room. "What do we really know about Sam anyway? Are you sure it's a good idea to leave her alone with him? Just because he has an alibi doesn't mean anything. We both know alibis are a dime a dozen, and they can be worked around."

"It's fine, Jack." Sharon rolled her shoulders and took a seat. She felt a hand on the back of her neck and looked up. She smiled and leaned against Andy when he stood beside her. Her head rested against his hip, while his fingers worked at the stiff knots in her neck. "We're not going anywhere, and I believe him. It would be very hard for him to fake that history, especially given they both remember it."

"History?" Andy looked down at her. She was exhausted. He would like to talk her into leaving, just for a little while. She needed to sleep. "What did they say?"

"They're getting married." Her arm curled around his leg. Her hand settled against the inside of his denim covered knee. "Apparently Sam and Emily went to High School together. They bumped into each other in New York a couple of years ago. They were friends first."

There was something in the sparkle that entered her tired eyes. Andy's brows rose. A smile played at his lips. "Sounds familiar."

She hummed, even as she shrugged. "Maybe. It would be hard for him to fake a high school connection to Emily. I think that's probably fine. I know that there is a lot going on right now, but I refuse to let this situation dictate how anyone in this family looks at the world. We cannot greet everyone we meet with suspicion."

Where he leaned against the wall, slowly rubbing away the kinks in Sharon's neck, Andy sighed. He looked at the floor, studied the odd pattern of the tiles. He considered for a moment, while tapping the fingers of his other hand against his leg. It was not the first time they had heard of Sam. Emily began mentioning him a while ago, first in passing, and later with more frequency. It became obvious that the relationship was growing, even before she spoke of him in relation to any kind of romantic association. Sharon had wondered about him, and at the time, for a while, she had worried.

"It's not a problem." Andy shrugged. "Sam. I wouldn't worry about it either." He knew that he had drawn her attention. Andy looked down at her, his dark gaze unwavering. "You don't have anything to worry about with him."

There was confusion in her gaze. Sharon's brows rose in askance. "What do you mean?" When he did not immediately respond, and instead only continued to stare at her, Sharon felt a very familiar, somewhat nagging sense of mixed suspicion and worry sweep over her. It was a feeling that she knew well, and one typically associated with their work. It sent off warning bells, and the distinct thought of _ah oh_ that typically rang through her mind. In years past it would have been followed by a reporting cycle. More recently, it meant a pile of paperwork. Sharon sighed. She gave him a knowing look. She almost didn't want to ask. "What did you do?"

"Nothing." He continued to gaze back at her. "Just trust me, it's not a problem." Andy shrugged. "You don't have to worry about Sam. He checks out."

Her eyes closed. Sharon fought the urge to groan. "_Andy_." There were moments, like this one, when she didn't know if she wanted to kiss him or throttle him. She leaned her head against his hip again. "Please tell me that you did _not_ perform an—"

"I didn't do anything," he said, truthfully. "I'm telling my girlfriend that she doesn't have to worry. My boss isn't here right now." He tipped her head back and smiled down at her. "Since my girlfriend has no business talking to my boss about our personal relationship, she doesn't have to worry about it either." He gave her a pointed look; his brow arched. They had an agreement that the only way that this would work between them was if they didn't bring their work home, and didn't take their personal relationship into the office. There were overlaps, since neither could occur in a complete vacuum, but they did not actively involve the two. "Besides, _I_ really didn't do anything. Now, if I happened to call in a favor…"

"I get the point." She stopped him before he could continue. Sharon decided it was better that she not know the details. She could imagine just what he had done. It was such an _Andy_ thing to do, and while she couldn't completely fault his logic, it was also _Andy_ logic, which meant that… well, she wasn't going to think about it. She was too tired to give it more than a passable thought anyway. "Then I won't worry about him," she said instead. "Sam checks out, that's all anyone needs to know."

"You're kidding me right?" Jack just stared at her. "You're going to let him get away with this?" It didn't matter when or how he had broken the rule, the fact remained that it had been done. The Sharon he knew would have been all over it, professionally or personally, it didn't matter. She sure as hell never would have let _him_ get away with something like that! "He just admitted to a serious privacy invasion. You cannot seriously—"

"Jack." She sounded weary, but her eyes glinted with warning. "What I choose to do about it, or not, is none of your business. I'm sure that we will discuss it, perhaps when there is time to do so, or we are in a location where it is appropriate. At present, I'm not going to consider it. What I am going to say is thank you, because given everything that has happened, that is one thing that I do _not_ have to worry about right now. You might consider that yourself, since about three seconds ago you didn't want to leave Emily alone with Sam for fear of who he might really be." It was unlikely, now, that she would broach the subject with Andy again. It would have the taint of Jack, and she wasn't bringing that into their relationship. There was only room enough for the two of them, their exes had no place in it.

"Oh, I see." Jack glared at her. "So the rules only apply when you decide that they do. I suppose that goes for who they apply _to_ as well."

Sharon felt Andy grow stiff against her. She could feel the muscles bunching just beneath the surface, and the agitation that rolled off him. He didn't comment, and wouldn't. When she glanced up at him, he was staring at the floor, but his clenched jaw and the heat in his eyes wouldn't deny his anger. Her hand moved up the back of his leg in a simple caress. She was not blind to his effort. In any other situation, he'd have already lost his temper a few times over.

"I said that I wasn't going to discuss it," Sharon replied. "I meant it, Jack. This isn't the time, and it isn't the place, and I think we both have more to worry about right now." She would make him leave. If he could not rein in his attitude, for Emily's sake if no one else's, she would send him away.

"It's not." Andy shifted his gaze from the floor. "There's more we have to talk about." His hand settled against her back again. Now that Emily was awake, and Sharon was no longer sitting vigil, as she had most of the night, he decided it was time to move on to the next crisis. He reached into his back pocket for the note. While she was in with Emily, he had gotten a plastic specimen bag from the nurse to preserve whatever evidence they could. "This was waiting for Rusty when he got home last night. He brought it with him."

"I guess someone slipped it under the door." Rusty came over and sat nearby. "It was on the floor, just inside the condo. I didn't know what to do with it." His stomach churned nervously, and watching Sharon pale as she read over it, only made the knot in his gut tighten. He chewed on the inside of his lip for a minute before he sighed. "Sharon, who is this guy? What does he want? Stroh is dead, so why would anyone else want to hurt us?"

"I don't know, Rusty." Sharon was keenly aware of the fact that she was saying that far too often lately. She lay her hand on his shoulder. "We're going to find out. I promise you that. This will _not_ take over your life again." She wouldn't allow that, and she wouldn't allow him to be in danger again. Sharon had indeed had her fill of that, with all of her children. Her eyes closed. She felt the weariness again. It was so heavy, but she pushed it aside. She looked up at Andy as she passed the plastic encased note back to him. "I think it's time to give our friend Deputy Andrews a call."

"Yeah." Andy returned her gaze. "Sharon, I think it's time that you called Taylor." They had two murders in two states, a kidnapping in a third, and now this note. It had grown beyond what a small Sheriff's office could handle. It was time to bring their people into it. Although, this was probably above their heads now. Their suspect had crossed state lines, that meant bringing the FBI into the case.

"Yes, I think that you're right." Sharon sighed softly. Her head tilted. "How do you feel about a little interdepartmental cooperation?"

He gave her a bland look. He hated that crap and she knew it. "I think it's time," he said anyway, "and maybe with our guys on it full-time…" They would have a little more luck.

They needed it. _Luck_. Because time was something that they were running out of.

**-TBC-**


	13. Chapter 13

**Home and Hearts Aflame**

**by Kadi  
Rated: T**

**Disclaimer: **I do love this sandbox, but sadly it is not mine.

**A/N: **I'm so sorry for the delay. RL is totally kicking my rear end right now. This is still in progress. I have not forgotten or abandoned it. 14 will be posted in a few days. I want to bank some more finished chapters so the wait isn't so long between updates going forward. Thank you for hanging in with me. Ya'll rock!

* * *

**Chapter 13**

Convincing Sharon to leave the hospital was just as difficult as Andy imagined that it would be. She dug her heels in. She would not be persuaded. Even when her parents arrived, there was no discussion allowed. The very idea was cast aside as preposterous. In the end, it was Emily that made her see reason. There was really too much that needed to be done. How could anything be accomplished if she was too exhausted to function? How could she find the person responsible for everything that was happening if she was hiding in the hospital? It wasn't as though she, Emily, would be alone. She had Sam, and the brothers, and her father offered to stay. Then there were the grandparents; they were present and accounted for, and her grandmother was already organizing how to take care of everyone.

She could resist a lot of things. Emily's big, pleading brown eyes was not one of them. Sharon let Andy drive her back to the ranch. It also spoke to just how tired she was, that anyone's pleading had the ability to push through her solid, maternal resolve. There was simply too much else that needed to be done. Sense and logic won out in the end, and Andy drove Sharon back to her parents' home.

It came as no surprise at all when she was fast asleep, only minutes after stepping out of a hot shower. He found her there after his own shower, still wrapped in her robe, hair damp and curling around her face. He couldn't imagine disturbing her, and so tucked a blanket around her before stretching out alongside and allowing the fatigue of the long and stressful night to pull him into slumber as well.

When Andy finally woke, the light outside the windows of Sharon's room had grown dim. The hues had shifted from the bright of afternoon to the burning, golden and scarlet hues of early evening. The sun would be setting soon. Andy grunted, just a bit disoriented as he closed his eyes again. He was on his stomach, facing the wall and the windows, arms wrapped around a pillow. Something tickled his ear; he twitched, and then grunted again. There was a soft warmth pressed against his back, a gentle weight that he felt shift against him. A nail traced the curve of his ear. Then he felt a warm, damp puff of air in the moments before a pair of lips settled against the curve of his jaw. He felt the corner of his mouth twitch. Andy smiled, but he grunted again. Her hair tickled his face as she leaned over him. She was warm, soft, and laying atop him, while she nuzzled at his neck. Her hands settled against his sides, moved slowly upward.

"I'm sleeping here," he muttered. He felt her laughter, before he heard the soft, throaty chuckle. "You should be doing the same."

"And yet," she mumbled, lips still moving against his neck, "I'm awake." She kissed her way to his ear. Sharon's lips moved against the curve of it, and then she pushed her nose into his short, cropped silver hair. "If you'd rather sleep…" She rolled off him and lay on her back. "I can go find something to eat instead." She was starting to get up when his arm curled around her waist. He moved fast; she was pulled back onto the bed, laughing as he covered her.

Her eyes were lighter, sparkling again. The worry could not be completely wiped away. There was still much to do, a darkness that was looming over them, but they wouldn't allow it to _own_ them. There were moments, glimmers of light in the dark, candles to light the way. There were feelings and hope, and a respite, however brief, to remind them what all of the fighting, and the worrying, and the stress was all about. It reminded them what they were doing it for, and _who_.

Her hair framed her face in thick, wild curls. Andy smiled as he pushed his hands into it. He swept it back from her face as his head lowered. He caught her lips, soft and lingering. A hand moved, fingers sliding along her neck in a gentle caress. The robe had shifted and fallen, leaving one shoulder bare. His hand stroked over the pale curve of shoulder, then his lips touched it. He heard her sigh, felt her hand move into his hair. His voice rumbled, thick and low in the quiet room. "What time is it?"

She hummed. Sharon snaked out one arm and let her hand close around the small, bedside clock. She turned it toward her with a sigh. "Almost six." Her fingers combed through his hair, even as she shifted on the bed, resettled beneath his weight. She lifted a leg and curled it around his; Sharon smiled when her robe parted and fell away. He took advantage of that, let his hand slide along her thigh. She had already checked her phone, it was the first thing that she had done upon waking. There were texts from the kids, and a couple of missed calls, but nothing emergent. It was nothing that could not wait for another few minutes. She lifted her head and let her lips touch his. Sharon smiled as she kissed the corner of his mouth, and then the tip of his chin. She pushed on his shoulders and when he rolled away from her, she moved over him again. She gathered her hair and pushed it back as she leaned down from where she now sat astride him. For every moment of the previous night that he had wanted to knock her ex-husband off his feet, and hadn't, there was a kiss. For every time that he came close to losing his temper, and swallowed it back instead, her lips touched his jaw, or his cheek. For all the times that she tried his patience and he simply chose to love her instead, Sharon let her mouth cover his.

He was in a difficult position, she knew. He wanted to protect her, and he wanted to be there for her, and yet he also knew that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. He was so passionate about life, and especially those in it that he cared for. Sharon was not blind to the struggle; to the way in which he had fought his innate nature, his own instinct to _fight_, simply to be what he thought that she needed. The effort was appreciated. She loved him for it. The truth was, however, she'd have loved him even if he had lost his hold on his temper. It was a matter of accepting who they were, as individuals as well as together. She knew him; she knew that hot-tempered nature all too well, and when she made the decision to cross this line with him, it was with the express knowledge that she was accepting _all_ of him. His temper included.

Sharon sat back and smiled at him. Her hands drifted across his t-shirt clad chest as she drew them away from him. When he sat up and wrapped his arms around her, she smiled into his kiss. "I see it," she said. "I know he's driving you crazy, and I know that I'm not always a walk in the park either, but I do see it. I see you," she added, "and you don't have to hold back with me. I'm not going to break, Andy."

"No." His arms circled her waist in a loose embrace. "You won't break, Sharon. But you don't need a couple of guys beating their chests and acting like a pair of idiots over you either. I don't have to act like an ass, there's nothing for me to prove. I got the girl." He grinned, dark eyes sparkling. "It's not what Emily needed either, or the boys." Andy sighed. "As much as I hate to admit it, I've been there. Outside looking in, and seeing everything I lost. I'm not saying he doesn't deserve a little bit of that, he had every chance, and he has to earn his way back in, but I don't have to be a jerk about it. Even if I would like to knock the arrogant smirk off his face the next time I see it."

"Hm." She shifted against him and settled her arms around his shoulders. "Well, your restraint is still admirable. If I seem oblivious to it, just know that I'm not. I'm still very glad that you're here." Her lips brushed his again. "Just… do something for me, okay? If I start to push you away, or withdraw, don't let me. Even if I'm stubborn or turn into a complete shrew, just…" Sharon sighed. She saw the confusion in his eyes. "One of Jack's biggest complaints was always that I froze up on him. I stopped seeing him. He's still big on blaming other people, and I know I had a share in it, not his addictions, but the rest. My kids, my job, it all became more important than…" Sharon trailed off with another sigh. She shook her head at him. "I don't want to do that again. Wherever we're going with this, it's worth it to me for you to fight for it too." She touched his face, let her fingers trace the line of his jaw. "Even if that means fighting me."

Andy lifted his hands and slid them into her hair. He swept the wildly curling tresses back; lifted it away from her face and neck as he tipped her toward him. He kissed her, slow, lingering. His lips caressed hers, teasing and gentle. His tongue swept across her bottom lip, and danced playfully against the roof of her mouth before he drew back. His eyes were dark; emotion burned in their brown depths. "I like fighting with you," he said, voice low and rasping. "You're my favorite sparring partner." His thumb caressed the curve of her cheek. "My favorite dancing partner." He kissed her bottom lip. "Definitely my favorite _pissing Provenza off_ partner." That one drew a laugh, and he grinned crookedly in return. He kissed the corner of her mouth, and then the tip of her nose. "Stop worrying. At least stop worrying about me. We're good. I know what I've got. All of the stubborn and bossy, beautiful, sexy, caring, and strong parts of it. I'm not going anywhere."

"Good." She let her forehead rest against his. "I'm going to hold you to that." She was starting to wonder if this wouldn't be the best way to spend the rest of her life, but then she pushed that thought aside, because there was a lot that they still had to do. Now wasn't the time for _that_ conversation. They had only been at this for a few months. There was time. At least, she hoped that there would be. Sharon drew back. Her fingers caressed his jaw again before she moved out of his arms and off of his lap. "Right now, I need to call my kids, check in with the office, and… feeding us both would probably be a good idea." She ran a hand through her hair. "I need to check on Emily, and then Rusty. I left him alone all night and most of the day with a group of strangers."

"The kid is fine." Andy watched her move away. After only another moment, he followed. He scrubbed a hand over his face and into his hair. Once he'd gained his feet, he stretched his back and felt his bones creak. He was getting old. _Damn_ but there were days when he really felt it. "Rusty can handle a few strangers. Your mother adores him already, it's okay." They had seen that for themselves when her parents arrived at the hospital. Sharon's mother was already admonishing Ricky to leave his brother alone in one breath, and telling Rusty he was too thin in another, and sending him to the vending machine for something to snack on a second later. The kid was well in hand and didn't seem to mind it either. Sharon was a lot like her mother in some ways, ways in which Rusty was easily identifying with.

"Hm." Sharon hummed as she dressed. She pulled a pair of sweaters out of her suitcase and decided on the red one. "She does, doesn't she?" Sharon looked over at him, eyes alight with simple joy. She wasn't surprised, not really, she had known that they would love him, if given the opportunity. Sharon shook her head and pulled the sweater on. She moved in front of the mirror and sighed as she ran her hands through her hair. "You let me fall asleep with my hair wet."

Andy snorted a laugh. He shook out a pair of jeans and stepped into them. "It always amazes me that anyone thinks that I _let_ you do anything." He slanted a look at her. "Including you." He found a t-shirt and pulled it over his head. "Just leave it down, it looks fine."

Sharon turned, slowly, where she stood and cast a bland look at him. "Fine?" Her nose wrinkled. She ran a hand through her hair again and walked over to dig through her bag for her accessories case. She found it and picked through it until she found what she was looking for. Then she quickly twisted her hair into a braid and secured it in a band. There was no point in straightening it tonight, they probably wouldn't be up long enough for it to matter.

He watched all of it. When she was finished, Andy shook his head at her. "There are some things that I am never going to understand about you."

"Good." She smirked at him and sat down on the edge of the bed to slip her feet into her boots. When she had finished that task, Sharon stood up and walked across the room. "We can't have you getting bored."

"No." His hand snaked out and he caught her arm as she passed him. Andy tugged her around toward him. "That's nothing we ever have to worry about, I promise you. You can be a stubborn pain in my ass, but you are never boring." He dropped a kiss onto her laughing mouth, and when she shoved at him, he let her. "See?" He laughed when she huffed and sauntered toward the door. "Never boring."

"For the record," Sharon told him. "If anyone in this relationship has the distinct honor of being the pain in the ass, that's you." As she spoke, she pulled open the door. When Sharon turned toward it, she drew back, startled. "Rusty!" He was standing there, poised to knock. She smiled, and then she blinked. "What are you doing here? Where is Ricky, who is with Emily?"

"Uh." Rusty looked between the pair of them. They both looked entirely too amused for it to be a real fight. He wanted to roll his eyes at them. They were like that sometimes, and while it was amusing, it was also a little weird. "Your mom made us leave. She told us both to come back here and get some rest. She also sent me up to tell you that dinner is almost ready, and you should seriously make a move and join everyone. Oh, and I'm pretty sure that no one ever says _no_ to her, like, ever. So yeah, I'm here." He looked at Andy again before his attention shifted back to Sharon. "Ricky is here too. Sam stayed with Emily. Jack got a room at a hotel in Bend, he was going to get some sleep and then go back and sit with her tonight so that Sam can sleep. The Sheriff's office posted a deputy on her door, you know, just in case our creepy friend comes back."

She took a moment to take all of that in, and then Sharon nodded. "Okay. Good." She took a step forward and pulled him into a hug. "How are you?"

"Are you kidding me?" Rusty leaned in to the hug, but just for a moment. When he pulled back he was grinning. "I'm cutting school in the mountains, and except for the appalling lack of Starbucks, it's really not that bad a place. Oh!" Rusty almost bounced, but he did draw the line at showing _that much_ enthusiasm. "There are horses."

That had her brows shooting up in surprise. The corners of Sharon's mouth twitched toward a smile. "Yes," she said at length, "there are horses. Quite a few of them. You find that interesting?"

He blinked at her. "_The Black Stallion_ is my favorite book." Rusty shrugged. "Well, besides Chernev's _Logical Chess Move by Move_, but that's completely obvious. How could you not know that? Don't you know me?" He looked behind her at Andy. "She doesn't know me at all."

"I can see that." Andy rubbed a finger across his upper lip. He tried hard not to smile. "That's just… unbelievable. She should know you better."

His voice was trembling with barely suppressed laughter. Sharon cast a look at him over her shoulder, eyes narrowed. She folded her arms over her chest. "Thank you, Lieutenant, for that astute observation." She slowly turned and fixed Rusty with a far more relaxed gaze. "I didn't realize you were a fan. Or liked animals, at all, horses in particular.

Rusty shook his head at her. "I'm going back downstairs. Ricky knows me. He'll get it."

Andy watched him walk away. When Sharon turned toward him, looking mildly dazed, he just shrugged. "What? You should know him better," he said, managing by some miracle to keep a straight face.

Her eyes narrowed. "I'm going to deal with you later."

His brows shot up. "Promise?"

She sniffed and turned on her heel. "Rusty…" She jogged to catch up with him. He was waiting for her by the stairs. She caught his arm before he could start down them. "We'll go out after dinner; you can get a closer look at them."

"Okay." Rusty slanted a look at her. He nudged her shoulder and grinned as they started down the stairs together. "I forgive you."

Sharon shook her head at him. A smile was playing at her lips. "Rotten child."

"I come by it naturally," he chirped. Rusty looked at her again. Had it really only been a couple of years since she tried to sell him on the idea of Daniel Dunn by suggesting that a biological parent might come with biological grandparents, aunts, and uncles? That hadn't panned out so great. Rusty didn't really mind. He was definitely better off without the biological side of his family, both of them, really. He kept seeing his other mother. He still loved her. Rusty just didn't believe in her anymore. He didn't trust her. Those were things that she would have to earn back, and he was pretty skeptical about it all. Now he was looking around, just a couple of years after that talk with Sharon, and he was seeing a lot of extra people in his life. Grandparents, aunts, uncles, and even cousins. More people than he had the ability to recall their names, and it was still a little bit nerve wracking, but everyone that he met was pretty nice.

Most of the cousins weren't around, they were all off at colleges, good colleges. The kind of college Sharon wanted to send him to, some day, when they were both ready for that. She talked a big game, but Rusty saw through it all, he usually did. She was relieved he decided to stay at home, and it had nothing to do with cost. They just weren't ready to be separated yet. It was another thing that he was pretty okay with. Now he was thinking that it was a really good thing, that separation anxiety that Ricky teased them about some times. She would be going nuts if all of this was happening while he was _away_ at school. Sharon worried about him enough. Rusty wanted to limit that as much as possible. Even if that meant answering a thousand questions from the aunts, uncles, and grandparents that he didn't really know, so that he could be where she could keep an eye on him.

Rusty looked at her now; he noted that while she looked more rested than she had earlier, he could still see the fatigue and worry that she was trying so hard to cover. He shoved his hands into his pockets and let his gaze fall to his feet. As they left the staircase, he stopped walking. "So, what happens now?" The question was tentative, but it had been bouncing around in the back of his mind. "What do we do about the crazy letter and everything else? I mean, why would anyone kill Stroh? You know, besides us."

"That is a really good question, Rusty." Sharon drew to a stop and turned to face him. "It's one I'd like to know the answer to. Right now, I really can't begin to theorize. I don't want you to worry." She touched his arm. "We're going to get to the bottom of this, just as quickly as we can."

"Sharon." Rusty looked at her, just a bit incredulously. "Are you kidding? It's not me that I'm worried about. Look at what's happened." He glanced toward the stairs as Andy joined them. "First Daniel's girlfriend, and then Emily, _and_ finding Stroh's body in_ my_ car? Your nephew, your daughter, and your son? I mean…" He ran a hand through his hair. "Sharon, don't you think that _you_ are the one we should all be worried about right now?" He looked at Andy then. "Right? I can't be the only one connecting these dots."

"You aren't." Andy laid his hands against Sharon's waist as he came to stand behind her. "You still don't have to worry about it, kid. Nothing is going to happen to her." That was a promise that he would make sure was kept. He wouldn't allow anything to happen to Sharon.

"Yes," Sharon clasped her hands in front of her. She looked up, took a moment to suppress the urge to comment on the cave man mentality that was radiating from behind her. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself," she reminded them, and allowed an indulgent smile to curve her lips. "I have been doing it for quite some time."

Rusty rolled his eyes at her. "The eight flights of stairs and fire extinguisher would agree with you, but I think we're heading into Bond Villain territory with this one. Stroh in California, Daniel up here, Emily in New York? Who is this guy? Okay, I get it. You're armed, and pretty tough when you put your mind to it, but this guy is after something, and I think that something is you."

"You forgot her bare feet." Andy spoke before Sharon could. He moved his hands to her shoulders and let them rest there. He gave them a gentle squeeze, and stood with his chest almost touching her back. "That bruised heel looked pretty nasty for a couple of days," he rumbled. She had given him a few bad moments over that incident, and that was even before he realized that he cared about her as much as he did; before he knew that he was in love with her. He didn't want to think about what she might do now, or what might happen, with others of her family in danger. She was a force, to be sure, but she was not invincible. None of them were.

"Hm." Sharon hummed quietly. She leaned back and closed the small amount of space that had separated them. They were worried about her, and she was touched by it, but she didn't want either of them worrying for her at the moment, least of all her son. "Rusty, I think the point that is being made here, is that I have my own personal body guard. You won't have to worry about me." She reached up and covered one of Andy's hands with her own. "I want you to focus on being alert and staying safe. Let us worry about the rest, okay?"

Rusty sighed, more because he knew that this was the best he would get from her, rather than out of any true sense of relief. "Okay, I won't worry." He would, he would just be less vocal about it. "What are you going to _do_?"

"All of the information that we have has been turned over to the local authorities," Sharon told him. "They are coordinating with the departments in New York and Los Angeles. I spoke with Chief Taylor after we left the hospital, but I should check in again. I would like to get a little more… experience up here, in terms of police presence. I'm not entirely certain how possible that will be. Whatever happens, we're going to work this like any other case, Rusty. We won't give up until we have it solved."

"But you'll at least tell me," Rusty said, "the next time you decide to have me followed?" He tilted his head at her and smiled. "I mean, I might not go certain places if I know you're having me watched."

Sharon closed her eyes. "Rusty," his name left her lips on a sigh. "I will never apologize for keeping you safe," She said, and met his gaze with an intensity that lit her eyes, burning their green depths until they were almost hazel. "For the record, your whereabouts were never reported to me. The security detail's job was to keep an eye on you, watch for trouble, and call for help if needed. I insisted that your privacy be maintained at all times."

"I know." Rusty shrugged. "I get it, Sharon. With what happened, it makes sense now. I just wish that you had told me."

Her brows lifted. She smiled at him. "Rusty, would you have listened?" They'd talked, at length, about her concerns for him and that she wanted him to have official, police protection. He hadn't budged on the matter.

"Probably not." Rusty grinned. "It just would have been nice to know that I had an alibi the whole time."

Behind her, Andy barked a quick laugh. "You know, I can't really fault his logic this time."

"Neither can I." Sharon shook her head. "Rusty, the next time an enraged serial killer wants to be rid of you, I promise to make sure you know when and who I've employed as your private security."

The dry delivery made him snort. "Deal." Rusty turned. "Although, when you say it like that, I don't exactly feel all warm and fuzzy inside."

"Indeed." That was rather the point. Sharon moved away from Andy. She lay a hand on her son's arm as they started down the hall again. "Don't worry, Rusty. Really. Andy is in charge of everything." She smiled at him. "He's going to take care of it all."

"Hm." Rusty slanted a look at her. "You know, that's not helping any."

"Hey!" Andy scowled at both of them as he followed. "Not only am I right here, but I will have you know, I was working homicides when this one was still handing out traffic tickets out in Hollywood!"

Rusty shared a look with Sharon. When she only smiled, eyes shining, he glanced back at the Lieutenant. "Yeah, but, that doesn't really say a lot, except that you're older."

"I'm starting to think that you're spending way too much time with Buzz," Andy grumbled.

Sharon giggled quietly. "Alright," she said, intervening before they could get started. "Rusty, go and find your brother. I'm going to call and check on Emily, and then I think I should check in with our people in LA."

"Sure." Rusty smirked. "I think your mom had him peeling potatoes. Something about picking on me." His eyes glittered as he sauntered off toward the kitchen.

Andy moved up alongside her. He looked down at her, eyes dark, but glittering. "Older?" He grunted at her. "I'm going to remember that."

She chuckled. Sharon lay a hand on his chest and leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek. "Yes, older. Not that I'm calling it a bad thing. Let's go, we have phone calls to make."

He grunted at her again, but followed when she started toward the study. While Sharon spoke with Emily, Andy called his partner. Given the hour, he wasn't surprised when he didn't reach him. No doubt he was off with Patrice. His favorite diner would be serving its early bird special. In the absence of Provenza, he called Tao.

In the meantime, Sharon listened at the update that she received from Emily. The orthopedist had returned after she and Andy left the hospital. The prognosis was very good, where the breaks were concerned. Her other doctors were keeping an eye on the infection, but it appeared to be responding well to the medications. Then her daughter assured her that she wasn't alone, Sam was still with her, and there was still a deputy posted at her door. Sharon promised to check in with her again, before the hour grew too late, and disconnected the call.

She turned to Andy, watching as he paced the other end of the study. There was a frown drawing his brows together. He gestured with one hand while he spoke, voice quickly gaining volume. There was agitation in his tone. The set of his jaw, and the rippling of his shoulders gave way the depth of his concern. Sharon crossed the study to join him. "Andy?"

He held up a hand. Andy continued to scowl, but his gaze was focused to the side, and on nothing in particular. "Run the GPS on his phone and call me back in ten minutes." He hit end on the call and lowered the phone. He stared at Sharon, dark eyes burning. "Provenza was supposed to pick Patrice up an hour ago, she hasn't heard from him, and he's not answering his phone. His car is still in the garage at PAB."

Sharon folded her arms across her chest. Anxiety began to churn in her stomach. She exhaled quietly. "Could he be in a meeting with Chief Taylor?" From experience, she knew that those could drone on much longer than was necessary.

"Mike checked on that." Andy ran a hand over his face. "Chief hasn't seen him either. Not since right after we called them earlier today." His teeth ground together. "No one knows where he is."

**-TBC-**


	14. Chapter 14

**Home and Hearts Aflame**

**by Kadi  
Rated: T**

**Disclaimer: **I do love this sandbox, but sadly it is not mine.

**A/N:** This chapter is dedicated to **kate04us** &amp; **CapricaM1983** and our adventures in traveling. Planes, trains, and automobiles... oh my!

* * *

**Chapter 14**

"How does she do this everyday?"

Evelyn and Michael stood in the entrance of the formal dining room of their parents' home. It was only used for family holidays and special occasions. At any other time, the family ate in the kitchen, at the smaller, casual table. Unless there were a lot of them home, and on those occasions the _adults_ would occupy the dining room while their children ate in the kitchen. The kids table, as they called it then.

The dining room didn't look at all like it normally did. There were papers and computers covering the table. A large monitor had been set up at one end, and there were two white boards set up on one side of the room. One of them was covered in photos, the other in notes. In the space of only a couple of hours their sister had managed to transform the dining room into some version of her own murder room. The boys had helped her, specifically Ricky, by rigging up the electronic equipment. Rusty had helped to fill in the timeline, and was continuing to write in notes on the whiteboard while Sharon sifted through the copies of evidence reports and case files she had received from both the local Sheriff's office and her own department in LA.

It seemed only logical that she put them to work, seeing as both boys had refused to stray more than a few steps away from her after the disturbing phone call she'd had earlier in the evening.

"It's her job I guess." Michael cast a sideways glance at his youngest sister. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his jeans. He shrugged at her. "I don't know Evie."

Michael wasn't sure that they'd had any real idea of what their sister did before now. They could imagine it, or at least try, and put some kind of adventurous spin on it based on things seen on television and in movies. They could picture her as more of a paper pusher, an administrator, because that's what she tried to tell them that most of her job was since achieving the rank of Captain. Even having moved into homicide, she tried to sell them on the idea that she mostly filed reports and signed time sheets. Seeing her now, it was a little hard to believe that was _all_ that she did. It was hard to picture her living so close to such darkness; their sister who loved Christmas, preferred daisies to roses, got misty-eyed at weddings, and taught all of their kids (hers included) to look for funny shapes in a sky filled with white, fluffy clouds.

He leaned against the door frame, looked at Evelyn again. "Has she heard from him yet?"

She looked at her watch. "I don't think he's had time to get there yet." It was late, but it had only been a few hours. Evelyn folded her arms across her chest. "Mom said she had to make him leave. He wasn't exactly thrilled with her." Evelyn leaned over and nudged her brother. "Dad took his side in the argument."

"Really." Michael's brows lifted in surprise. He had not been there for dinner. He had come by afterward, only to be filled in on the evening's events. "I'm sorry I missed that. Bet Shari really loved that."

A stack of papers smacked loudly against her thigh. Sharon turned and fixed the two standing in the door way with a hard look. "It was not an argument, no one was picking sides, and _yes_ I have heard from him." She pointed a finger at Michael, "do not call me that, and if the two of you are going to loiter around, you can help. Otherwise, go talk about me somewhere that I can't hear you."

They were right about one thing, Andy had not wanted to leave. Upon hearing that Provenza was missing, he was torn. He was trapped between duty to his partner, his friend, or staying with his lover. Sending him away was hard enough, but doing it when she knew that he was so worried about all of them was even harder. In the end, she needed him in Los Angeles. Sharon couldn't leave, and she needed him to step up and fill the void created by his missing partner. Lieutenant Tao was capable, more than actually, but he couldn't run the division by himself. In the absence of his partner, Andy was her senior most lieutenant; she could not afford to be selfish. He had to go. He just didn't like it.

He called her when he touched down in Salt Lake City. That was only minutes ago, and now he was waiting to make his connecting flight. He had time to calm down on the flight, and with his temper settled, he was checking up on her. It was sweet how his macho side seemed to be forgetting that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. He was right, though, this wasn't an ordinary situation. Her children and her family were involved, and she was spread just a little bit thin worrying about all of them and how she was going to keep them safe. Before leaving he made the boys promise to keep an eye on her, and that had tweaked her own temper, until she realized that he was doing it for two reasons, his own peace of mind, as well as keeping them where _she_ had eyes on them both.

No, they hadn't argued. They were both frustrated, however, and there hadn't been time to talk about it. Good grief but she loved that man, even when he was frustrating and macho, and pissed off at the world. It was a warmth that she held on to while the cold darkness of this case surrounded them. She wanted him with her, but she needed him at home, and Sharon did not have the patience to deal with her siblings speculating about the state of her relationship. She dealt with enough of that during the long years of her marriage to Jack.

Michael put his hands up as he stepped forward, into the dining room. "Don't snarl at us, Shari. We're just worried about you, too."

She rolled her eyes toward him and fixed her brother with a bland look. "Thank you, Mikey. Your concern is noted." She snapped her fingers at Ricky when she heard him snicker. "Do you have the footage downloaded from Buzz yet?"

"It's working on it," Ricky waved a hand at her. "This is standard wireless, mom. It's going to take some time. These are not the dedicated lines you're used to operating on at work."

"I don't even know what that means." She made a face at him. "How _long_ is it going to take, Richard?"

"A few more minutes," He said, and tried to remain patient. Ricky reminded himself that he was lucky she knew how to turn on her computer most days.

"What is this going to accomplish, Sharon?" Evelyn moved around the room as she inspected the progress they had made. She was thankful the actual crime scene photos had not been placed on the board. "Two different departments are already investigating everything. Isn't this a bit redundant?"

"Right now my people in LA are focused on finding my Lieutenant," Sharon told her. "I'm coordinating between the two departments, and picking up where my people left off with the investigation." She lifted the papers in her hand again and averted her attention to them. "In a case like this we can't afford to lose momentum, and as capable as I'm sure the sheriff's department is, they just aren't experienced in this kind of situation."

"I can appreciate that," Evelyn said, "but Sharon…" Her gaze swept over the two boys before returning to her sister. She had always made such a point of keeping her work separate of her family, especially the children. "Is _this_ a good idea?"

She peered at her from over her glasses and sighed. "No, probably not, but the two of them seem to think that I need a sitter," she said, tone going dry. "Since they insist on keeping an eye on me and being underfoot, I'm putting them to work."

"That's the party line anyway," Ricky grinned. "It also helps that it keeps us where she has eyes on. She also called dad and woke him up. He's back at the hospital with Sam, and there are three pairs of eyes on Emily right now. She's all cute when she's a little panicky."

Sharon's eyes narrowed. She laid a hand atop Ricky's head and turned it back toward the computer screen. "Footage, download. Commentary _off_."

Ricky made a face. "Cute was a bit much?"

"Just a little," Rusty responded with a smile. "I would have gone with adorable." He pressed his lips together and when Sharon turned a bland look on him, he turned back to the white board and continued to jotting down notes.

She rubbed her fingers over her forehead and sighed before turning back to her brother and sister. Sharon gestured, just a bit helplessly, "I don't exactly like the idea that I have the boys filling in as temporary homicide detective substitutes, but it is what it is, Evelyn. This case isn't going to solve itself. With any luck, we'll at least get most of the ground work out of the way and my people in LA can take over. _All _of them."

Michael was working his way around the room, looking at the way they had laid out all of the information. He always envisioned his sister's job being a lot like television, or movies. He thought they'd have a couple of files, some stale coffee, and then bam! The case would be solved, all in ninety minutes or less. That was not what he was seeing in the dining room. Everything was laid out meticulously. There was a timeline that Rusty was filling in, from the moment that Denise Matthews had gone missing to the apparent disappearance of the Lieutenant back in Los Angeles. Michael stopped beside him. "Is it always like this, or is she just a little bit neurotic?"

Rusty looked up from the legal pad in his hand. It contained all of the notes that Sharon and Andy had made since the start of the current investigation. He grinned as he shrugged. Sharon's brothers were kind of amusing in the way that they picked at her one minute, but got ready to be upset on her behalf without even a moment's notice. Rusty witnessed that earlier, when they found out that Jack was in town. He lowered the notepad in his hand and turned his attention on the man beside him. If Rusty had to guess, he would say that Michael was probably about Flynn's age, or close to it. "It's not exactly like _this_, but yeah, this is how they work cases. They don't know if anything is connected until they lay it all out and start looking at it piece by piece. Sometimes the dots start to connect, but sometimes they don't."

"Has there been any news?" Evelyn leaned her hip against the table. "Is your team any closer to finding your missing officer?" She watched her sister glance at her adopted son and shake her head before her gaze fell to the notes in her hand. Evelyn sighed. "Sharon…"

"Nothing yet," Sharon said quietly. She knew that Rusty was as worried as she was, probably more so. He and the Lieutenant were very close. "They're trying to trace his movements. That's the footage that Ricky is downloading for me. They think he disappeared from the parking garage attached to the Police Admin Building. I want to see it myself." She was sure that Buzz and Tao had already been over it with a fine tooth comb, but that didn't stop Sharon wanting to help as much as she could. Even if that help could only come in the form of a second pair of eyes. It was important to Rusty, too, that they do whatever they could to help. "We have a lot of questions right now, and not a lot of answers."

"Are you even sure that all of this is connected?" Michael waved his hand at the white board. "What if it's all just a weird coincidence? Or two different cases and whoever is responsible for the second one is using the first to throw you off?"

"I think you watch too much television." Sharon walked around the table and leaned over it, shifting through another stack of notes and photos. "Coincidences just like this don't happen, and certainly not in my line of work." A lock of hair had fallen out of her braid, she pushed it behind her ear as she straightened, a folder in hand. Her eyes swept over the timeline on the board. "We have Denise's death on Saturday evening. Emily left her apartment on Monday evening, intending to get on a plane. No one knew that she was coming, and Sam believed that she was here." Her voice hitched, just slightly, as she spoke. "It takes two and a half days to drive across country, with the stops that Emily's abductor would have had to make for gas, sleep, and to keep her drugged."

Sharon gripped the folder in her hand tightly as she walked around the table and stopped beside Ricky. Her son was staring at the keyboard in front of him. Sharon rested a hand on his shoulder and felt a tremor run through him. The two of them might argue, but they were close. Sharon believed Ricky and Emily to be closer than she was to her own siblings, and with good reason. They only had each other growing up. She worked long hours and Jack was seldom around. Sharon tried very hard to be there for them when she was needed. She was at every practice, every recital, every game. But there were evenings when a babysitter sat with them while they slept, and later when they were older, she would leave money for dinner in a cookie jar. The cold reality was, as much as she tried and as much as she wanted it to be otherwise, Ricky and Emily had to learn to lean on each other.

She drew a breath before she continued, but Sharon kept her hand anchored to Ricky's shoulder. "That fits our timeline. Emily was found wandering a rural highway late Thursday afternoon. She doesn't remember much, and we don't know if she managed to get away from her abductor or if he let her go. Now it's looking more like he let her go." Sharon paused, her gaze moved to Rusty. "That also puts us at the discovery of Phillip Stroh's body in Rusty's car. Doctor Morales put time of death at Sunday evening. The body had already started to decompose, which explains the lovely smell permeating your car, Rusty."

"Eu de Stroh," Rusty muttered beneath his breath. "There's just no coming back from that."

"I'll buy you a new one," Ricky said in a quiet voice. His fingers moved across his keyboard again. The download was picking up. They'd have the footage soon.

Sharon allowed an indulgent smile at their antics and lay her hand against the back of Ricky's neck. He'd come a long way since the previous summer. She was proud of the big brother that he was becoming. "It only takes twelve hours to drive to Los Angeles from here," Sharon continued. "Our letter writing friend had more than enough time to leave Emily wandering out on Highway 126 and drive to Los Angeles prior to Lieutenant Provenza's disappearance. That is assuming, of course, that he didn't fly. Rusty…"

He walked over to the second white board and pointed at the flights and times that he had jotted down. "We have three flights out of Redmond to Portland on Thursday evening. Only a single non-stop from here to Los Angeles. This morning, there were another two non-stop flights to LA, and another two to Portland. After hitting Portland, there are flights to LA all day. Or Salt Lake," he added and turned back to Sharon.

"Which is how Andy made his return this evening. We booked a flight to Salt Lake, and he caught a connecting flight to Los Angeles." She glanced at her watch. He should be in the air again, she thought. "There are flights in and out of Redmond to Salt Lake, Reno, and Lake Tahoe all day; small puddle jumpers, and from any of those airports, it's simple to catch another flight to LA. We're going to have a hard time nailing that down. At least we will until we can pinpoint an identity." Sharon sighed. "In any event, the timeline fits. He could be working with a partner, but it's doubtful. They rarely do."

"Unless he _was _the partner." Rusty tapped the dry erase marker in his hand agains the legal pad he still held. "Stroh worked with a partner. Maybe after he escaped, he hooked up with one of them again. Only this time, whoever it was, decided they were better off on their own. Or wanted to clean up the mess he made?"

"Probable," Sharon nodded. She didn't like Rusty thinking too much about any of this, but he was going to, whether she involved him or not. It was better, she had learned, to focus his attention. "But unlikely. Still, the only thing we haven't been able to fit in is when Stroh's body was placed in your trunk. I suppose it could have happened at any time while you were in class on Thursday. We're still waiting for the footage from the parking garage to be sent over." She ran a hand over her hair and continued around the table to stand near her brother and sister. "We'll use whatever we can from that and compare it to the footage from the condo. The cameras are limited to the lobby and parking structure, but we may get lucky and get an image of our suspect coming or going."

"While you're doing all of this," Evelyn said, "your people are in Los Angeles looking for your missing Lieutenant."

"Exactly." Sharon shrugged. "That's what I need them doing." She looked at her watch again. "It's been a few hours since the last time he was seen. We're running out of time."

**MCMCMCMCMCMC**

Moving through LAX on a Friday night was no one's idea of a good time, and especially not Andy Flynn's. He moved through crowds of people, his long legged stride easily eating up the length of the concourse as he made his way toward the exit. He was glad that he had packed lightly, and only had the one carry-on. Particularly given the number of times that other travelers stopped in his path. It was taking every ounce of restraint that he had to keep from snarling each time that it happened. Andy clenched his jaw tightly shut, ground his teeth together and concentrated on not ploughing over those that had the stupidity to stop in his path.

It was with some small amount of relief that he made it to the escalator without managing to pull out his gun, or otherwise lose his temper. He called making it through the airport with only a few blistering looks spared at the idiots in his path a win. Andy drew a breath as he stepped onto the escalator and began descending toward the ground level. As he rode, he took out his phone and scrolled through his pictures. He was fairly certain that he remembered where he left his car, but it wouldn't hurt to double check. While he was at it, he sent a quick text to Sharon that he would call her after he made it out of LAX traffic, something that could be a beast all on its own.

As he neared the bottom of the escalator, Andy slid his phone back into his pocket and readjusted his grip on his bag. He took a step downward, and probably would have just walked the escalator if not for those in front of him. Waiting wasn't a hardship in this instance, at least, not until the two people in front of him stepped off the escalator and then stopped completely. He almost bumped right into them and tripped coming off the damned thing. He had to jerk his rolling bag upward to keep it from getting caught in the escalator.

His teeth ground together again. This time he couldn't stop himself. "Really?" They turned and he scowled darkly. He didn't even care that they were young, barely adults probably, or that the girl's eyes widened in alarm. Andy waved a hand impatiently. "You want to move? Or should we all just start jogging in place while you figure out where the hell you're going?"

It had the desired effect, even if they did seem shocked that he actually said something to them. The two stepped aside and Andy was able to shoulder past them, along with everyone else who had been on the escalator. He shook his head as he left the airport and strode across the street to the parking garage. He knew that he was probably more easily irritated than normal, but he didn't have time to be held up by stupidity.

Finding his car turned out to be another lesson in patience, but he located it a few minutes later and tossed his bag into the trunk. His phone buzzed as he sat down behind the steering wheel. Andy ran a hand through his hair as he lifted it. Then he sighed.

_Don__'__t run anyone down trying to get out of there. _

Sharon. There were times when he wondered if her knowing him, and his temper, so well was a blessing or a curse. Andy made a face at his phone as he answered her. He would just let her stew on that for a little bit, and tossed his phone into the cup holder in the center console before he started the car.

_No, sweetheart, that__'__s what the siren is for._

Imagining the look on her face was enough to make him feel _almost_ better about it. If the situation was different, and he wasn't back in town and in a hurry to get to the office because his partner was missing, it probably would have done the trick. As it was, nothing short of finding out what the hell was going on, and where the hell Provenza had gotten off to, was going to make him feel better about anything.

His mind was already back on the case as he left the parking garage. He checked in with Tao when he got to Salt Lake City, had him send everything they had on Provenza's disappearance to his phone. Andy worked on that during the flight back to Los Angeles. That was two hours ago. He waited until his wallet was gouged for parking and he was back on the highway before he called for an update.

He barely let Tao finish speaking before he cut in. "I'm in the car and headed your way. What's going on?"

"Hold on." Tao stated, sounding oddly aggrieved. Well, it was odd for him, given he was the most even tempered member of the team. "I'm going to conference you in."

Andy heaved a sigh, more at the delay, and the fact that he seemed to be behind the eight-ball already than anything else. He tapped the fingers of his other hand against the steering wheel and maneuvered through traffic with one hand. He was almost tempted to turn on his siren when a car moved into his lane and slowed down. In the interior of his car, and having forgotten about his phone, Andy swore loudly, and somewhat violently as he was forced to break.

It was a stream of words to make any sailor proud. A low, throaty hum sounded through the phone. "So glad to see all of those anger management courses paid off over the years, Lieutenant. It's been a while, though, so perhaps we should revisit that theme?"

It could never be said that he didn't love that woman, and love her completely, but Andy scowled darkly at his phone as he heard the sound of his _Captain__'__s_ voice, carefully berating him for his use of language. A few years ago, he would have told her to take those anger management classes and stick them where even Jack would never find them, but a lot of things had changed since then. Mainly it was their relationship, but she also wasn't FID anymore, and he really wasn't upset with _her_.

He groaned quietly. "Can we get on with the update," he rumbled, "this isn't a party line and I don't feel like doing a round robin. Mike, speak."

Sharon decided, in that moment, that she was still _technically_ on leave and he was reacting to the situation. His fight or flight response was on at full steam ahead, and it wasn't going to do him any favors if he didn't get it under control. "_Andy_." She spoke quietly, calmly, and let her voice lilt across the phone line. "This isn't helping." She knew that he was worried, frustrated as they both were, and traveling at short notice wouldn't have been exactly pleasant. She waited, counting the seconds until she heard him sigh. It was a softer sound, much less ragged than previous sounds he'd made. "As I was telling Mike, we noticed something on the video footage from the parking garage."

"I thought you said there was nothing there?" Andy asked, directing his question back at Tao and the guys in the murder room. He could just imagine them crowded around the other man's phone.

"Rusty saw it," Buzz explained. "On a second look, we were able to identify the source of his concern."

"Turns out," Julio stated, "when you walk around expecting someone to jump out and kill you, you get used to looking in dark corners for anything and everything that might be waiting for you. We didn't see it, we weren't looking for it."

"They will show you the footage when you get to the murder room," Sharon said. "In the meantime, in an effort to keep you from running down any innocent drivers," she paused when he snorted. Sharon smiled. That was better. "We were reviewing the footage and Rusty was able to identify who we think is our abductor. We're still waiting on the footage from the parking garage in Santa Monica, and for the New York police to send us the footage from the ATM across the street from Emily's apartment. The images from the garage there aren't very clear, and it's obvious that our guy knew where the cameras were. He was trying to stay out of their range."

"He just kind of sucked at it," Julio stated. "We have a partial image. Buzz is working on trying to get us something better."

"It won't hold up in court," Buzz said. "I'm doing a graphic restoration and completing the image based on what we can see." He jumped in, giving the short explanation before Tao could explain the technical aspects of what they were going to be doing.

"So we still think this dirtbag took him from the parking garage?" Andy asked the question because no one seemed to be approaching it. "A garage attached to police headquarters, really? He's getting that bold?"

"I think we passed bold when he killed Phillip Stroh and stuffed his body into the trunk of Rusty's car," Sharon said, "in broad daylight in a parking garage near a college campus, while Rusty had security shadowing his every move."

"Point taken." Andy sighed. "Alright. I'm still half an hour out. I'll look at what you've got when I get there. Do we have any other leads at all?"

"Nothing yet," Tao said. "SID is still going over the garage. If we can get even a partial print, along with the images we have, we're closer to ID'ing a suspect."

"Unfortunately, we still don't know _where_ to look until we know _who_ we are looking for," Sharon said. "The Lieutenant's family has been informed that he is missing. We have patrol cars on both Liz and Heather's houses." His other ex-wives no longer lived in the city; they had moved to Arizona and Florida respectively.

"So now we just have to wait," Andy said. He shook his head, despite the fact they couldn't see it. "Alright. Dammit." He ground his teeth together. "We'll check in with you again soon," he told Sharon. Now that he was back, he was having to step up, take charge. He hated the hell out of that. It chaffed a bit. He was a good cop, he knew that, but leadership was not something he had aspired to. That was Sharon's gig, or Provenza's. Andy never wanted to play the politics, he was too busy doing the job.

"I want hourly updates, Lieutenant." The corners of Sharon's mouth twitched toward a smile that was only barely audible. "When you get the footage from Santa Monica and New York I expect you to transfer it immediately."

After another few seconds they ended the conference call. Andy gave it only a second before he called Sharon directly. "You know, I would feel better if you were down here getting your own updates."

"I know." Sharon stepped out onto the porch with her phone, and left the boys in the dining room. Ricky was writing a program to overlay the one Buzz was using. He wanted to enhance the images they had. Rusty was noting every place he had been the last couple of weeks, in case it was possible he had been followed before. "I would prefer it myself," she said, "but I can't move Emily yet, and—"

She wouldn't leave her. "I know," Andy replied, understanding completely. "This is getting out of control, Sharon. What's next?"

"I don't even want to think about it." She leaned back against a porch post and cast her gaze toward the shadowy, looming figure of the mountains in the distance. "We need to stop it before it goes any further. We need to find Provenza and the person who took him. I just don't know how we can do that. This suspect is all over the place, and there is so much that is out of our control." She hated waiting for other departments to decide that they deserved to look at footage that could help them find their suspect. "Because Emily was found here, New York isn't in any hurry to help us. She's no longer a missing person, and since the person responsible is quite obviously no longer in their city, it's not considered a threat to local safety." There was an edge to her tone. "Chief Howard is working with contacts he still has inside the FBI to get us that footage, but it's going to take time."

"Time we just don't have," Andy stated. "So we move ahead without it." They couldn't rely on what could be too late in getting to them. "Which is why you're letting the boys help."

"It's not the only reason." Sharon shifted where she stood and sighed. "They need to feel like they're helping. There is a lot happening right now, and they feel helpless. Added to that, they aren't letting me out of their sight, and I'm not exactly feeling like letting them out of mine. I could use the help, so it works. Rusty knows how we operate. I don't like having him or Ricky so heavily involved, but, it is what it is. Whether I like it or not, even with Stroh dead, this isn't over for Rusty yet. Sometimes I wonder if it ever will be," she added, voice barely a whisper.

"It will." Andy gripped the steering wheel harder. "Look, Sharon, the kid is okay. We wrap this case and that's it. It's done. He is in the clear. No more serial killers, trials, or need for security."

"Logically I know that," she said quietly. "I just feel like we've been living under this cloud for so long, it seems impossible that it could actually be clearing. It wasn't supposed to be like this. I wasn't supposed to—"

"Get attached to the little psycho?" Andy grinned as he recalled those first, difficult months when Rusty had been hard on all of them, unwilling to let down his guard, and acting like a sarcastic little creep. "That was always going to happen. I think we can all see that now, even if at the time, it didn't seem likely. You like the hard cases, admit it."

"Hm." She smiled. "Well, that would explain you wouldn't it?" Sharon pushed away from the post and turned back toward the house. "Go find him, Andy," she said softly. "We're okay up here." That was what he worried about, she knew. He was torn.

"Yeah," he said roughly, "I know. I'll call you in an hour with your damned update."

"See that you do." She paused, just for a moment, and sighed again. "Be careful." He was headstrong and hot tempered, passionate, and sometimes he let his emotions cloud his judgement. "I don't want to have to field an FID investigation on top of everything else," she teased, trying to cover her worry.

"Not going to happen," he replied. "It's not nearly as fun as it used to be. Staples is an ass, Elliot is jealous, and that other guy, Donaldson, he's just pathetic. Not a good pair of legs in the bunch. It's horrible." He adjusted the phone against his ear as he changed lanes. "Even Julio has learned his lesson. It's just not worth it anymore. FID is full of nothing but big, burly guys. Even the narcotics goons have started behaving. It's sad, Sharon." He heard her laugh, soft though it was, and relaxed just a bit. "Who knew the best way to shape up the LAPD was to get you out of IA? No one wants to play anymore." He was going to have to get off the highway soon. Andy sighed. "I need to go. I will call you," he added, and knew that she would understand that it was not just for the update.

"Yes." She was still smiling. He could be so utterly ridiculous, just when she needed him to be. "Soon." Her hand rested against the door knob, and she hesitated for a moment before pulling it open. "I love you."

"Yeah," he said gruffly. "Me too… Shari." She groaned as she hung up on him. Andy grinned. He tossed his phone back into the cup holder in the console and pulled the car into the exit lane. His smile faded slowly as he turned his mind back to everything they needed to accomplish. Then Andy realized he was going to be dealing with Taylor, directly, without a buffer. "Son of a bitch!"

**-TBC-**


	15. Chapter 15

**Home and Hearts Aflame**

**by Kadi  
Rated: T**

**Disclaimer: **I do love this sandbox, but sadly it is not mine.

* * *

**Chapter 15**

The sky was gray. It was early morning, and normally light would be spreading across the sky. Back in California, hues of red and gold would be chasing the blues and violet as twilight turned to morning. Instead there was a chill in the air. It was wet and raining, and in the distance, lightening lit up the sky, showing off the angry grays of a storm-filled western sky.

It was the thunder that had awakened him. It wasn't a sound that he was overly familiar with. They didn't get a lot of thunderstorms in Los Angeles. Despite the early hour, Rusty wasn't able to go back to sleep. He made his way downstairs to the kitchen intent on starting a pot of coffee, but found the kitchen lights on and the carafe already more than half full.

Rusty pulled down a mug and filled it. The kitchen was empty. He had a suspicion that he knew who was up, and after stepping out onto the porch, he realized that he was right. He stepped up alongside Sharon. She stood, shoulder perched against the porch post, and a mug of coffee held cradled in both hands. She was staring out at the sky and the angry clouds that seemed to be sliding toward them, coming at them from over the mountains. They were both silent, and watched as lightening lit the sky again, turning it a burned orange for just a few seconds. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

Rusty glanced beside him. He wondered if she had gotten any sleep at all, or if she had been up all night. When she finally sent him and Ricky off to bed, it was with the promise that she would also be turning in soon. He had no idea if she actually had or not, and it wouldn't surprise him if she hadn't. She had changed clothes, at least, and her hair was no longer in the messy braid. With it straightened and falling in its usual layers, she looked more like herself. Rusty considered the contents of his coffee cup for a moment. His voice was almost tentative as he asked the foremost question on his mind. He almost didn't want to know the answer. It would either be the same, or worse. Much worse. "Any news?"

Sharon sighed quietly. She drew her eyes away from the stormy horizon and looked at her son. He was drawn, pale, and worried. She reached over and touched his arm. "Not yet, no." She lifted her coffee cup and sipped. "Buzz's reconstruction is done, but we still can't ID the suspect. None of us have ever seen him before and he doesn't match anything we've got. We spent the night going through old case files trying to find a connection. So far there's nothing."

"Did you sleep at all?" Rusty studied her more closely. In the glow that was cast over them by the inside lights, he could see that the lines around her eyes and mouth were more pronounced.

"A little, yes." Sharon smiled tiredly. "I laid down for a few hours, but the storm woke me." She tilted her head at him. "I forgot how loud they can be out here. It's not like the storms we get in Los Angeles that hover off the coast. Or even the ones that make it to land. There's nothing out here to break the sound of the thunder. No skyscrapers or overpasses. Out here it's just a few hills and scattered trees. The storms used to scare the crap out of me," she admitted with a smile. "They would roll in over the mountains, usually in the middle of the night, and thunder so loud it would rattle the walls would echo through the house." Sharon shook her head. "It will clear off by noon, but it's going to be a wet and nasty day." She pushed away from the post and stood straighter. She faced him. "What are you doing up?"

Rusty made a face at her. "Are you kidding?" He snorted. "The sky is angry and wants to eat us. It woke me up too. I wasn't really sleeping so great anyway. Too quiet, and then too loud."

Sharon laughed quietly. "You are such a city boy." The wind was picking up and it was blowing the rain that was already falling toward them. Sharon reached out and rubbed his arm. She jerked her head toward the door. "Come on, let's go back inside."

"No arguments here." Rusty followed her back into the kitchen. They didn't stay there, however. They topped off their coffee cups and then made their way to the dining room. Rusty took a seat at the table while Sharon stood studying the white boards. "It's not good, is it?" Rusty watched her. "The longer he's missing, the harder it's going to be to find him, and the longer it takes, there's less chance he'll be alive, right?"

She turned slowly. Sharon studied him. She could placate him, but Rusty would see right through it. She had also promised to always be honest with him. Sharon walked over and took a seat at the table beside him. "The truth is we don't really know that. Not in this case." Sharon spoke carefully. She didn't want to get his hopes up, but at the same time, this case wasn't entirely like others they had worked before. "Emily was missing for two days, without anyone even knowing. Then she was let go, and… Rusty, I just don't know. This could be another attempt at a distraction, or the Lieutenant could have been a target all along."

Sometimes Rusty hated the non-answers as much as he hated when she kept things from him. He wanted to believe anything was possible, that she could _do_ anything, but that just wasn't the case. Sometimes she was wrong, and sometimes she failed, and sometimes she just didn't know. She was honest about it, though. Whatever was happening, she was always honest about it. Except for the part where she hired private security after he specifically told her he didn't want to live his life like that, but Rusty was choosing to file that one away under exceptional circumstances. The kind where Sharon was usually right, specifically about the crazy serial killers that wanted him dead. "We just don't know why. Or who this creep is, or _anything_," he said.

She couldn't argue with that. They had the footage from the parking garage in Santa Monica. The man they spied moving through the structure was not someone that any of them recognized. She had poured through what she could, at a distance, of her old case files from her days with Professional Standards, but nothing jumped out at her. Although it didn't make sense why, if this was about her, the Lieutenant would have been abducted. They were currently going through cases that Major Crimes had handled after her transfer, since that was really the only link between herself and Lieutenant Provenza. That meant looking at more than three years worth of cases and their victims, survivors, suspects and of course all of the families that were involved on both sides. It was a lot of work and it was slow going, even worse, nothing was jogging any of their memories.

"Rusty, I don't want you to…" Sharon trailed off and stopped speaking. She stared at the table in front of her. There was nothing that tied any of the information they had together. The attacks had come at her family, and the Lieutenant, and the escaped fugitive that wanted her son dead. There was not any single, one thing that pulled all of that together, nothing except the boy that was sitting beside her. Aside from their work, there were only two other things that she shared with Provenza. One of them was Andy, the other was Rusty. Her jaw dropped open, just a bit as her mind turned over the possibilities. There had even been a time when Andy had teased her about co-parenting with the Lieutenant, although his place in Rusty's life was really as more of an Uncle or Grandfather figure.

They had viewed the placement of Phillip Stroh's body in Rusty's car as another attack, a distraction. The only thing that tied Stroh into the case at all was his connection to Rusty. When they peeled back the layers of the case, it was not her at the center of it at all, but Rusty. He was the common thread that pulled everything together. He had never met her nephew, or the rest of her family before this trip, but he was still her son and he was connected to them. He was Emily's youngest brother, and he had a personal relationship with Provenza.

Sharon put her coffee down and pulled her phone out. She called the murder room because she knew that someone would be there. Sharon wasn't surprised when it was Andy that answered. "Stop what you're doing. We've been looking at this all wrong. Pull everything we have on Rusty. We need all of it, from the moment he hit his first foster home to the day that Phillip Stroh escaped. This isn't about me, or the Lieutenant, not at the center of it. It's Rusty, he is the one common factor in all of it. That is how we're going to find our suspect."

"Sharon." Andy fought the urge to grin. "Breathe." He leaned forward against his desk and switched the phone to his other ear. "We put that together about an hour ago. We pulled what we could, which pretty much amounts to everything about the Stroh trial, but we need Rusty to sign off on us pulling the rest. His juvenile record is sealed now, and he is the only one that can request that we unseal it."

She stopped where she stood and turned. Her eyes moved back across the room. They landed on Rusty. He was watching her intently, if a bit wide-eyed and confused. "Wait. What?" Sharon's head inclined. "What do you mean that you put it together an hour ago?" Her voice dropped an octave. That was warning enough, but she placed her free hand against her hip while her brows drew together in a frown. "Lieutenant, why wasn't I notified?"

Andy rolled his eyes at her tone. "Because we were busy pulling all of the Stroh files. We made a few calls and there's an on-call DCFS social worker that will be able to get the rest for us as soon as we have Rusty's signature. Tao emailed the form over a little while ago. Get Rusty to sign it and send it back." What he wouldn't say was that he didn't want to wake her, not if she might actually be asleep. He kept it about the case instead.

She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. "Right." Sharon nodded slowly. "Very good. Have you found anything in the Stroh files?"

"Not yet." Andy tapped a pen against his desk. "You would think that we already knew that case front and back. We're tearing through it again. We even pulled everything we have on Douglas Grand, the guy that Rusty was with up in Griffith Park. There's nothing there. We agree, we think that Rusty is the key to all of this, it's the only thing that explains the Stroh murder, we just don't know _how_ he's the link."

Sharon turned and looked at Rusty. "Check your email," she told him. "Send the form to the printer and get it back to the team. They need your approval to pull your DCFS records."

Rusty gave her a puzzled frown. "Don't you guys do that all the time? Why is this different?"

"You aren't a suspect Rusty," She said, with some amount of patience, "and we don't have a reason to get a warrant. Theoretically, if you refused consent, we could get a warrant but that would take time. I can't imagine that you actually want to withhold consent?"

"Of course not." He made a face at her. "You all just always sort of… you know, make it all look easy. This is also kind of a first for me." Rusty smiled as he scrolled through his phone to his email. "You don't usually ask me for permission to do anything."

Her mouth opened and closed a few times. Sharon was speechless. She couldn't exactly refute what he was saying. Rusty was correct, she didn't usually ask him before she did something that she felt was in his best interests. The same was true with her other too children also. Finally her jaw snapped shut. She shifted where she stood and faced him more fully. Sharon shook her hair back. "One day, when you're a parent, you'll understand." She pointed her phone at him. "Print, sign, now."

"I'm printing." Rusty shook his head at her. "Is there still a person on the other end of that phone? Or are you just going to point it at me all day?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Rotten, rotten child." Sharon lifted it to her ear again. "We're working on consent. You'll have it in five minutes."

"Ten," Rusty said. At the look that she cast in his direction he shrugged. "What? It's a crappy printer. Don't look at me, Ricky got us the crappy printer. I wanted the laser jet."

"You'll get it soon," Sharon told Andy, and chose to ignore Rusty's comments about his brother. She turned away from her son and walked toward the white board. "We should focus on the aspects of Rusty's history that would tie into the adoption. Who in his past would know about that or that Lieutenant Provenza was an important part of his life now?" She looked at her watch. "Andy, it's been more than twelve hours."

"I know." He sighed. "We're running out of time. We really don't have any leads, and even this could be a long shot. It's all we've got, Sharon. I don't know what else we can do." He ran a hand through his hair. "I hate to say it, but this is being directed at you as much as it is Rusty, and I think that Provenza is still alive. We'd have a body by now if this scumbag had already killed him. The problem is not knowing what's next." Andy ground his teeth together. "Or who."

"Or who," she repeated. "There is no recognizable motive here, and we can't identify his end game." Sharon moved farther from Rusty as her tone pitched lower. "You'll keep working on it. We all will. Send copies of everything to me. The boys and I will delve into it too. With Rusty's help maybe we'll find something. No one knows his history better than he does. It isn't much, Andy, but it's a step. There is also the possibility, small though it is, that this could be very much like Emily's abduction. We could end up finding him without even really looking for him. This could all be an attempt to distract us."

"From what, Sharon?" Andy shook his head. "The only thing it's managed to do is put everyone on alert. I can't imagine what this idiot could be planning to do next. If Rusty is at the center of it, and that's still just a theory at this point, the only thing that any of this has done is cause you to keep him closer. You're not going to let him out of your sight, and we can't throw away the idea that you could be at the center of this too. That could be the whole point of it. You've got Rusty with you, and both of you are beyond our reach, only it isn't Phillip Stroh that is pulling the strings."

Her eyes closed. In the deep, rumbling tones of his voice she heard all of the frustration and the worry, tinged with anger though it was. "I've thought of that too," she replied. "I'm being careful. You don't have to worry about me, and you don't need to worry about Rusty. Look," she sighed, "we won't stray far from the house or the hospital. Neither of us is going to be by ourselves at any time. I've got it under control."

"I know you're perfectly capable of taking care of all of that," he said, making sure to word it carefully, given he wasn't alone in the murder room. He had already drawn looks from Sanchez and Buzz. He ignored them. Their relationship wasn't exactly a secret, even if they did choose to be discreet about it. "The thing is, I'd feel a hell of a lot better if we knew who we were dealing with. You're basically isolated up there, and I can't help but think that if this was a distraction, that was the whole damned point."

"Perhaps." Sharon's lips pursed. "However, if this was an attempt to isolate me, or Rusty, then it's been a complete failure. There are better ways to come at me than through my family, my children, and my team. All this has really managed to do is piss me off."

Andy snorted a laugh. "Yeah, I can tell. I almost feel sorry for the son of a bitch. You're not so great to be around when you're mad. We used to call you Darth Raydor for a reason."

"Used to?" She sniffed and managed to sound insulted by his use of the past tense. "Lieutenant, before this is over, I'm going to show you why you never should have stopped."

"Okay, that does it, now I'm more worried about the dirtbag. I really shouldn't have left you alone…" Andy leaned back in his seat. "Look, get me that consent form. We'll get DCFS to send over the files and copy you on them. Maybe that is the part of the puzzle that we've been missing all the time."

"It's worth a try," Sharon agreed. "I can't help but think that this comes back to Rusty." She turned slowly and looked at her son. "In the end, Andy, it always comes back to him. As I said last night, when does it end?"

"When we nail this bastard. That's when. It'll be over and there will be nothing else tying him to any of the crap that he's had to deal with. You gotta believe that, Sharon. With Stroh dead and this son of a bitch out of the way, there won't be anything else left to stand in his way. This has got to be it, the last tie to that creep. We just need to figure out how it fits into the whole mess."

"Then I suggest we get back to work." She met Rusty's gaze and he nodded. "You should have that consent form in a matter of seconds. Call me when you have the data from DCFS. I imagine it's still going to take a few hours to arrange. I'm going to see Emily later this morning, and with as quickly as DCFS ever does anything, you should have it by the time we get back here."

"We'll let you know." He paused. "Sharon… watch your back. Whatever is going on, he's had enough time to get back up there, or damned close to it."

She drew a thin breath. Her eyes closed again. "I know." As worried as she was about the Lieutenant, that concerned her even more. "It's under control," she told him again. "I'll talk to you soon."

"You can count on it." Andy was almost tempted to conference her in when he had to update Taylor later in the morning. That was not an event that he was looking forward to.

Rusty waited until she disconnected the call. Then he stood and walked around the table. He leaned against its edge, hands shoved into his pockets. "So that's it then? It always comes back to me?"

His eyes were downcast. She could see the concern in them, and the way that he tried to hide the fact that he really was worried that this was, ultimately, his doing. "_Rusty_."

Sharon walked over to lean against the table beside him. She wrapped both hands around her phone. Their shoulders brushed, but she didn't make any outward move to comfort him. There were moments, like this one, in which being overly affection with him was more harmful than not being affectionate at all. Rusty needed to feel in control, and in approaching that, he closed himself off a bit. It was an action that Sharon could understand all too well, and one she sometimes employed too.

"I don't believe," she said quietly, and was careful in how she chose her words, "that it comes back to _you_ at all. I think what it comes back to is a situation where, due to events and actions, and a great number of things that were outside of your ability to control or foresee, you were in the wrong place at the absolutely wrong moment." She gazed at Rusty, watched him closely, and the way that he was looking at the floor in front of them. Sharon averted her own gaze after a moment and let it wander over the makeshift murder boards they had pieced together. "Think of it like ripples in a pond, Rusty. A single, small stone may cause a few small disruptions in the water. As they travel outward they get larger and larger, but you know what..." Sharon looked at him again, a small smile tugged the corners of her mouth upward. "Those ripples eventually roll into absolutely nothing. They stop. They aren't completely infinite, and neither is this situation." She bumped his shoulder with hers, and when he looked at her, she smiled gently. "I'll never be completely sorry that moment happened. The fear, the pain, and everything that has come from it, yes. That it brought you here? To me? No, no that I will never regret, and I don't believe that anyone else who has come to know you, and care about you, will ever regret it either. It doesn't come back to _you_, Rusty. It comes back to a man that needed to be stopped. It was a situation that set off a chain reaction of other events, and none of them are your fault, and you are not responsible for any of it. _This_ is not your fault."

His jaw clenched tightly shut. Rusty nodded silently. He looked at the floor again, and while he blinked rapidly to control the moisture that wanted to pool in his eyes, he took a deep breath. He let it out slowly and let his eyes close. It was hard, sometimes, to believe that he wasn't at fault. That the bad things that kept happening to the people that he cared about were not because of him. He knew she was right, she usually was, and he held on to that while he quieted the rising tumult of emotions that wanted to take over. Finally, Rusty lifted his head again. She was waiting, patiently, and studying the cover on her phone. He nudged her shoulder. When she looked at him, Rusty managed a small smile.

"So I guess, this is your way of telling me that I don't get a raise in my allowance for being the center of the universe?"

Her lips pressed into a thin line. Sharon cleared her throat, while her eyes sparkled. Her head inclined and she let her gaze drift away again. It was all that she could do not to laugh outright. "Well," she began, "I think that would be a pretty accurate summation." She shook her head at him and smiled. "It is going to end, Rusty. Some day, very soon, all of this will stop. How or when I can't say, but it _will_ end." She reached out to him then and lay her hand on his back. "Okay?"

"Yeah." He sighed quietly. "It just doesn't _feel_ like it's ever going to end. You know? It feels like something else always seems to happen. We put Phillip Stroh in jail, and then I started getting those stupid letters. We got rid of Wade Weller, and then what happened? Stroh escaped from jail. Now this. It's like we fix one thing and something else breaks. I can't help but _feel_ that we're going to fix this situation and something else, something worse is going to happen."

"I know." She rubbed his back. "I understand the feeling, really I do. But I have to believe that it isn't the case. I have to believe that once this ends, then we're done. It will all be over and we can, _both_ of us, get back to the business of living our lives."

"Without the need for secret private security," he chirped with a smile.

"Oh my god, Rusty!" Sharon stood up and sighed. She whirled on him. He may have looked amused by it, but this was not the first time that he managed to work that into conversation. She thought they reached an understanding. "I am never going to apologize for doing what I feel is necessary to keep you safe. The same goes for your brother and sister. Rusty, I am never going to apologize for doing what I feel is necessary to look out for what is best for you. I know you may not always agree with that, and I am sure that there is going to come a time when we definitely will _not _agree about that, but doing what is best for you, Rusty, and for Emily and Ricky, and keeping all of you safe is the one thing that I will never give up on. It's the one part of my life that I will never compromise on. You are my child, and if keeping you safe in some way angers you, then so be it. I will be sorry that you cannot agree, but I will not be sorry that you are safe, that you are healthy, and with any luck, that you are also happy. Whether it is your physical safety, or your education, or even your emotional stability. You, your brother, and your sister, you three are what matters most to me. Do you understand?"

It was as if on this she was a wall. Completely unmovable, and perhaps not totally unbreakable, but certainly solid. Rusty knew that there were other things that she had done, without necessarily speaking to him about them first, to try and keep his best interests moving forward. He couldn't prove that she had actually spoken to Jeff about whether or not college was important and he should go, but he knew that Sharon was involved somehow. He could just _feel_ that, somehow, she had maneuvered that situation. Maybe for the better, now that he was on this side of that time in his life, he could agree that maybe he wasn't thinking about it all that logically. She was right, he needed to go to school, and he needed to get a degree. In what, he couldn't say just yet, but there was time enough to figure it out. He had some interests and ideas, he just wasn't completely ready to commit himself to any one thing. Which was fine, there was time to figure _that_ part of his life out. It also wasn't as if Jeff had told him that he absolutely had to go to college, but he had agreed that maybe it was a good idea.

Then there was his other mother. Sharon had told him, after the fact, about the deal she made that was ultimately going to keep Sharon Beck in jail for at least another year. If she screwed up, then it was on her if she had to do the full sentence, and honestly Rusty hadn't disagreed with the idea. Even six months into serving her time she still hadn't seemed to understand what she had done wrong and why she was there. Rusty also sort of appreciated the fact that he knew where she was. He didn't have to question that she was okay, or even alive. He knew exactly where to find her, and he could see her. Visiting his mother in jail was something that he still did, and never once had Sharon tried to stop or dissuade him. He knew that what she had done had been for him. Rusty also knew that she would never try to stand between him and his birth mother, not unless Sharon Beck was somehow hurting him, or putting him in danger... like she had done last summer by asking him to go out on the street and sell himself to earn her bail money.

He was right, a few years ago, when he said that Sharon was not his mother. She wasn't. She wasn't anything like Sharon Beck. She never would be. She protected him, and she took care of him, and she made no apologies about the way that she went about it. He wasn't completely clueless. He knew how lucky he was. It just got a little frustrating sometimes. It was supposed to. That's what Ricky told him. Sharon was going to drive him crazy. It was her job, as his mom, to make him batty with all the ways in which she would go out of her way to take care of him. Just the way that she made Ricky batty, and drove Emily insane. It's what she did. It's who she was. He was no different than the other two in that respect, and wasn't that what he always wanted? He'd wanted his mom, and now he had one. It would be pretty stupid and really low if he started complaining about it. Honestly, Rusty had no complaints, not really. She wasn't trying to run his life, it just felt like that sometimes. Apparently... it was supposed to. This was what having a mom was supposed to be like. He was just on a bit of a learning curve.

Rusty looked down for a moment. He shook his head before he glanced at Sharon again. "Whether I like it or not?" As he asked it, a small smile appeared. They were both reminded of a conversation they had a few years before. About who he was, and who he would become, and her place in his life. It had taken place long before he began to consider Sharon a permanent fixture. Now he couldn't imagine his life without her.

"That's right." Her eyes glittered. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Whether you like it or not."

"I might not like it," He pointed out, just so that they were clear on that fact.

"No," she nodded. "You very well may not. I will always be willing to listen, Rusty. That doesn't mean that I won't do what I think is best for you. Especially where your safety is concerned."

"Let's just hope my safety isn't a factor anymore," He said. "I'd really like to be normal for a while."

Sharon's brows shot up. She smiled, a bit too sweetly at him. "Oh, Rusty. I'm a police officer. This _is_ normal."

He stared back at her, for just a moment, and then he snorted a laugh. "You are so weird sometimes." Rusty pushed away from the table and let his shoulder bump hers as he walked past. "Hungry?"

She hummed. "A little, I think. What did you have in mind?"

"Well, do you think that your mom would have a complete fit if we invaded her kitchen for breakfast?" He cast a carefully skeptical look at her. "I mean, she doesn't seem to like it when I try to help with the cooking, and then..."

"She wants to know why you aren't helping." Sharon rolled her eyes. "Yes, I'm very familiar with the concept. Come on, let's go do it anyway. I don't feel like waiting on her." Besides which, she thought maybe they both needed something to keep them busy while they waited for the DCFS files to come back. After breakfast they would go and see Emily. She had checked on her throughout the night, but Sharon needed to see with her own eyes that Emily was still recovering. All too soon it would be time to work again, for now, it was just the waiting.

As they left the dining room, Sharon stopped abruptly. She was hit with the sudden realization that her conversation with Rusty was like so many others she'd had over the years. It swept over her like a wave, the familiarity of it, and it left her a little breathless. The circumstances might have been different, but the intent was not. How many times had she been in this situation with her father throughout her life? She looked back on it now, and she was quite definitely a lot less gracious about it than Rusty had been. What an ungrateful brat he must have believed her to be. Her father had tried, as she did for Rusty and her other children, to do what he thought was best for her. Perhaps he had showed less patience than she did, but it was, at the very heart of it, the same. Oh, what a completely ungrateful little fool she had been.

What had she told Rusty, just a few minutes before? _One day, when you are parent, you will understand_... She did. She finally, and fully, understood everything that her father had tried to do for her throughout the course of her life. They would never completely see eye to eye, and she was sure that they would butt heads again; they were just too much alike and both of them too stubborn to completely give over... but she got it now. Sharon made a mental note, as she trailed behind Rusty into the kitchen, to speak to her father again when they'd solved this case. Now that she had managed to have a headstrong, stubborn child that was very much like herself... it was time that the two of them put the past completely in the past, where it belonged.

**-TBC-**


	16. Chapter 16

**Home and Hearts Aflame**

**by Kadi  
Rated: T**

**Disclaimer: **I do love this sandbox, but sadly it is not mine.

* * *

**Chapter 16**

Too much coffee and too little sleep had managed to accomplish just one thing. He had a massive headache. Andy scrubbed a hand across his brow as he poured another cup of the dark substance. This time the pot had been made by Tao. He could count on it to be strong, but not to eat the lining of his stomach, something that only happened when Julio was in charge of the coffee. Sykes made it too weak, and if they didn't keep a close eye on her, she might toss flavored syrup of some kind into it. Lately she was a big fan of hazelnut. He liked Amy, but if he caught her putting hazelnut into the coffee again, Andy was going to lose it. He couldn't promise that Sykes would survive the encounter, but he would do his best.

As he stepped out of the break room, Andy came face to face with Assistant Chief Taylor. He was unable to stop the groan. "Again?" He walked past the man. "Didn't I already update you? I'm pretty sure I remember it. It was last night. I should get a reprieve."

"Very funny, Flynn." Taylor turned on his heel and followed him. "Where are we, Lieutenant? I need some answers." The division was racking in the overtime on a case that was spanning three states. One of their own was missing, and the child of another had been abducted and recovered. They also had a dead serial killer, and while no one was shedding any tears over Phillip Stroh, the Chief, the Mayor, and the press were demanding answers.

"We're at Police Headquarters. Downtown LA." Andy cast a look back at the other man. "I didn't think you were that old. Is the memory already going? You should get that checked out. I seem to remember you being a lot sharper than that." How many years had it been since he worked for Taylor in Robbery-Homicide? Not nearly enough, that was for damned sure. Hard to believe, now, that he had once considered that snake a friend.

Taylor rolled his eyes. "Flynn." He followed him into the murder room. "I shouldn't have to remind you how big this case is. There are other people, a lot higher up the LAPD food chain than I am, that are demanding answers. Pretty soon they're going to stop asking and find someone else to take care of this mess. Is that what you want to happen?"

It earned him a glare. Andy set the coffee on his desk and turned. His hands moved to his hips, rested against his belt. "You know damn well that's not what I want to happen, but if I'm busy talking to you, then I'm not actually working on the case. I think the word we're looking for here is counter-productive." When Taylor didn't budge he sighed. "We've got DCFS pulling everything they have on Rusty Beck. We think, and the Captain agrees, that he is the link that puts all of this together. He's the only one with a connection to all of our victims." Andy waved a hand at the murder board. "There's a weak familial link to the first victim. Denise Matthews was the girlfriend to one of Rusty's new adopted cousins. Emily Raydor, adopted sister. Then there's Provenza, and I shouldn't have to get in to all the ways that he was connected to Stroh. Rusty ties it all together. How, we don't know yet, but the kid is the clue. Rusty gave us signed consent to open his juvenile record, and we're doing that, but DCFS doesn't work fast for anyone. In the meantime, we've cracked open the Stroh files, and we're reexamining that part of the puzzle."

The Chief rubbed a finger across his top lip while he listened. He had to admit that it all fit, but it also seemed to make the puzzle that much bigger. "Alright. I can work with that." He turned where he stood and gazed at the notes and photos covering the murder board. "What about Captain Raydor? When can we expect her back in LA?"

"Are you kidding me?" Andy stared at him. He knew that Taylor was a piece of work, but he didn't expect that he was blatantly stupid. "Her daughter is still in the hospital. Sharon isn't leaving Emily right now, and she's keeping Rusty with her." When Taylor stared at him, he winced. "Dammit." Andy looked away and shook his head. "The Captain," he corrected, "is not leaving her family right now. Until we know who our suspect is and, pretty importantly, _where_ he is, she is our link to the Sheriff's department in Redmond."

"Uh huh." Taylor continued to watch him. He decided to let the slip go. He had known about that relationship for a while now. It was reported, per the regs, and so far it hadn't interfered with the way that the division ran. As long as they kept it out of the Murder Room, he didn't really care. No one cared, actually, what two senior detectives over the age of fifty were doing when they weren't at work. Both of them were vested, and it wasn't as if that kind of relationship would draw any undo attention. They were old. Hell, all of them were old, himself included. The reality of it was, no one younger than fifty would give a damn or believe that anyone in their age bracket was capable of having that kind of relationship. As far as he was concerned, more power to them.

Taylor sighed. "Believe me, I understand," he said. "I'd do the same thing. I'm getting a lot of pressure to get her back here. We're short-staffed, maxed on overtime, and I don't have to tell you, stretched pretty thin. We have everyone on this thing, and that's exactly the way that it should be, but certain people would feel a lot better if the person in charge of this division was actually here… being in charge."

Andy blinked at him. "You don't say," he drawled in a bland tone. "I can't imagine who that would be." He rolled his eyes. "Look, we want her here as much as you do, but it ain't going to happen. Believe me, she's completely in charge. The Captain is still getting hourly updates, and she's working the case on that end. It's the best we've got. If you can't sell that to The Pope, then you're not the snake charmer we all thought you were. Go peddle your wares, Taylor. Let us do the work so you can look good in front of the press later." He waved a hand, dismissing him.

"Mmhm." Taylor shook his head. "You should take a nap." He shook his finger at Flynn as he walked past him. "You still get cranky when you haven't had any sleep. Worse than a five year old."

"Well," He flashed a cocky grin at the other man, "I learned from the best."

Taylor continued to slowly shake his head as he left the murder room. He waved a hand in Flynn's direction. "Thin ice, Lieutenant, you're on some very thin ice."

Andy threw his hands up and looked at the others, "What ice? It's LA." He made a face. "I'm telling you, there's confused, there's senile, and then there's…" he turned and pointed in the direction that Taylor had gone.

"Lieutenant," Julio's face hurt from trying so hard not to laugh. His shoulders shook with the effort. "There is a reason they don't leave you in charge very often."

"No kidding." Mike rubbed a hand across his head. "Poking the Taylor might not be the best idea you've had today."

"Ah!" Andy pointed at him. "Then he should stay out of my murder room while I'm busy." He dropped into his chair and lifted his coffee again.

"_Your_ murder room?" Amy leaned forward against her desk. "It's gone to his head in less than twenty-four hours. Who had that one?"

"I did." Buzz raised his hand, but did not look up from his computer screen.

"Funny." Andy flipped open a file on his desk. "You all suck, just for the record." He glanced at his watch. He had another twenty minutes before he had to update Sharon again. He wasn't kidding about the hourly thing. "Hey, Julio, get back on the phone with DCFS. I want those damned files. They've had enough time. If I don't have them in the next twenty minutes, tell them they can talk to the Captain about the delay."

**MCMCMCMCMCMC**

"You look tired."

Sharon slanted a look at the man beside her. "You look great too, Jack." She folded her arms across her chest. Her gaze was fixed on her children, the three of them, as they sat in the hospital room on the other side of the glass window that provided a view into Emily's room. The boys were giving their sister a hard time. Emily was so far removed from everyone with her life based in New York, it seemed only natural that Ricky and Rusty would bond first. She was getting to know Rusty, but it was slow going. As with anything, it would take time.

Jack shook his head. She always could turn anything that he said around to use against him. "That's not what I meant, and you know it." He pulled his gaze away from her and let it wander over the children. Theirs. Hers. "Emily tossed and turned most of the night," he said. "She wouldn't admit it, but I think she's having nightmares. She won't tell me, whatever it is, I'm not the one she's going to confide in. That one is all on you."

"Yes," she said quietly. "It usually is." Sharon closed her eyes. Even to her ears her tone was biting, and edging farther from sarcasm and closer to bitchy. She wasn't trying to be exceptionally hard on him, but he was acting as though this was a normal situation. She was well aware of the fact that her daughter might be experiencing after-effects of her abduction, that her subconscious might be coping with it in the only way that it could as memories of those two days returned. The fact was, Sharon had been the primary caregiver for her children for most of their lives. That Emily would want her, and not Jack, was not a new concept. It was simply the way that it had always been. That didn't excuse her behavior, however, and there was no reason for her to be harsh with him. He was there, and he was trying. "I am tired," she admitted. "I don't think I've slept more than a few hours every night since this began, and last night..." She had told Rusty that she laid down, and she had, but sleep had mostly escaped her. "It's fine, "she said. "Emily will be fine too. I know someone, I'll ask him for a referral. She'll need someone to speak to when she's stronger. Ideally I'd like to take her back to LA with me, but we don't know when she will be well enough to travel, and she may want to go home."

From the corner of his eye, Jack watched her nose wrinkle on the word _home_. He shook his head. The quiet chuckle couldn't be completely contained. "Still trying to get her to transfer back to the west coast? I don't think that's ever going to happen. She's a Manhattan girl now."

Sharon hummed. He was probably right about that, but she would never stop trying. As much as she wanted Emily to live her dreams, she would always miss her girl. "Have you and Sam worked out a schedule for the rest of the day? I'd really rather not have her left alone, and unfortunately, the boys and I can't stay."

"Yeah." He sighed. Jack shoved his hands into his pockets. "We've got it figured out. Sam is going to get out of here in a little while, get some sleep. He'll stay with her tonight." He slanted a look at Sharon and made a face. "I get that she's an adult, but do they have to flaunt it?"

She snorted. Sharon covered her mouth as she laughed. "I think you're forgetting where and with whom I was living before we were married. This isn't a fight we can win, or should even attempt." She arched a brow at him. "I seem to recall a little one bedroom off campus apartment and you not being the least bothered that _my_ father didn't agree with it. She's older than I was, Jack."

He grunted at her. "Doesn't make me feel better about it." He watched Rusty, laughing at the way that Ricky was winding his sister up. "The kid is doing okay? He was pretty rattled. Hell, he called_ me_."

"He was desperate." The corners of Sharon's mouth twitched toward a smile. "Rusty is okay. He has a lot to be rattled about right now. He's handling it. He's come a long way, Jack."

She was proud of him. She always had been, but it was much more readily apparent now. "Yeah," Jack agreed. "I can see that. The kid went and grew up on you. Not just in that too old for his age thing that he had going on before. You know, a couple of years ago, when I first met him, he would have freaked out. You should have seen him, he didn't let them see him sweat."

She smiled at that. Sharon let her gaze linger on her youngest. He was, despite the situation, keeping a level head. Jack was right, the Rusty of a few years ago would have panicked, and possibly done something dangerous and unwise. He had grown, matured, and she was proud of him every day. She couldn't wait to meet the man that he was shaping up to be. "Thank you," she said quietly. Sharon looked at her ex-husband. "I don't know if I said it before, with everything that was happening, I may have forgotten. You didn't have to help him, Jack. You could have walked away, and no one would have blamed you for that." She rolled her eyes. "I would, but, you know what I mean. You've got no obligations to Rusty."

"Don't I?" Jack shrugged and looked away from her. "He's Rick and Em's brother, what was I going to do? Let him sit in jail?" He sighed. "Hell, I owe the kid one anyway. Maybe more than one," he added quietly. "I blamed him, but you and I were done a long time ago."

"Yes we were." Years in fact. Sharon hugged herself tighter. It wasn't a conversation she wanted to have. Not again. She was sure that they'd said all they needed to on the subject of their marriage and it's failure. "Still, I do appreciate your help. We're lucky that you were willing to take his call."

There was a lot more that he could have said on the matter. Her point was taken. He was an ass, and she had no reason to expect that he would try and help any of them. "You're welcome." Jack decided it was better to leave it at that. He didn't want to fight with her. They had done enough of that. "So what's the plan?" He asked. "For finding Provenza?" She had only said that they had no news yet.

Sharon glanced at him. "We think that Rusty is the link," she explained. "We're looking into everything that we can, everything that connects him to us and the Stroh case. Somehow our suspect is connected to him. Once we figure that out, the rest should, with any luck, fall into place."

"Huh." Jack frowned. He studied the kid for a moment. "Could it be a revenge thing?" When Sharon looked at him, he gestured with one hand. "You know, someone wanting to get back at him for what… what has he done? They killed the serial killer that he helped get off the street. Your guys took care of the serial killer that tried to get rid of him for that guy, and then this guy took care of the serial killer that caused the whole mess. I mean, sometimes, Sharon…" He sighed. "If you cops could think like the assholes you put behind bars, you'd get a lot more done and faster."

"Hm." Her eyes closed. Sharon shook her head at him. "Says the defense attorney." She rolled her eyes toward Jack. A brow rose. "Alright, I'm willing to entertain the idea that you might have something useful to contribute. Go ahead."

Jack stared back at her. She could be so damned patronizing at times. He turned toward her. "Okay, Sharon." He said her name in that way that he knew she hated, emphasis on the second syllable. When her eyes flashed in response, he fought the urge to grin. "You're thinking like a damn cop. You can't understand what your suspect is thinking because you aren't trying to. What does this guy want with Rusty? Huh? It's not a chess game he's looking for. I mean the whole damned thing is playing out _like_ a chess game," Jack waved a hand through the air as he brushed that thought aside. "What's the point in all of it? Rusty doesn't have anything. It's not like he's made of money. He doesn't have any connections outside of you. He's a damned kid whose fifteen minutes of limited legal fame ended when the guy he was supposed to testify against turned up dead. He's pretty much useless to you all now, at least as a witness. Why the hell would the city care about him now? Outside of his connection to you anyway. If Rusty is at the center of all this, like you think that he is, then the only reason that anyone would put him there is revenge. You've got to figure out why. Who else did the kid take down?"

Sharon stared at him. Her gaze drifted slowly, while her mind worked over the pieces he just laid out for her. "Oh my god." She lay a hand on his arm. "Jack." Her breath came in quick, shallow puffs. Her eyes lifted to his face, wide and unseeing. She was picturing something else, and it was laid out before her in almost perfect symmetry. "That is exactly what it is." Her hand slipped off his arm as she walked around him.

She stepped into Emily's room, and she was almost loathe to interrupt the laughter. She schooled her face, carefully sculpted it into a pleasant smile. "Rusty, Ricky, we should go," she told them. "Let's allow your sister to get some rest." Sharon walked across the room and leaned down; she managed somehow to mask the trembling in her small frame.

"Oh come on." Ricky pouted at her. "We were just getting to the best part. She was starting to whine."

"Dare to dream little brother." Emily smiled up at her mother. She seemed strained, but her gaze flickered to the window. Her father was still standing there. She wondered if it would always be like this with the two of them. "Will you come back?"

"Of course." Sharon lay a hand atop her daughter's hair and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Very soon, I promise baby. But right now, you should rest. Okay?"

"Hm. Yes." Emily was beginning to wilt. She felt as though she could sleep the rest of the afternoon away. Her body ached all over, and especially her feet. "Love you."

"More than you know." Sharon stroked her cheek before straightening. "Let's go boys. You can let your sister torment you again another time."

"You mean we can let her torment Ricky again another time." Rusty smirked as he stood. Something was off with Sharon, but he couldn't get a read on what. "It's always fun to watch her put him in his place."

"Don't get too cocky," Ricky warned. "She was putting you right there with me." He pulled his long body out of the chair he was occupying. "We'll come back later," he promised, "bring some real food." He tapped her leg before walking toward the door.

"Sam has gone to get the real food," Emily said with a grin. "Terrifies me to see what you two would bring back."

Rusty and Ricky looked at each other. "We're definitely bringing the food now," they decided.

"Rest," Sharon told her daughter again. She trailed out after the boys. "Go ahead," she told them. "I'll be there in a minute."

Ricky shook his head. She had stopped beside his father. He pointed at them. "No fighting."

Sharon waited until they had gone. "Keep an eye on her," she said.

"What the hell is going on?" Jack caught her arm before she could leave. "What's got into that head of yours?"

She drew a thin breath. "You nailed it. It's a chess game," she whispered, "and we are the pieces."

She was quiet after they left the hospital. Rusty exchanged a few looks with Ricky, but the older boy just shrugged. She seemed agitated about something, but they both decided that it was the proximity to Jack. Whatever he said to put her in this mood, they knew that she wouldn't tell them. It was probably better just to ignore it, and give her a little space to work it out in her head.

Only Sharon didn't want space.

When they got back to the ranch, she called both of them into the dining room with her. "Rusty, do you have your chess board with you?"

He squinted at her. "Yeah, it's in my bag." It was one of the few possessions he had from his life before he met Sharon. It went everywhere with him. "Why?" She wasn't much of a chess player, but she wasn't exactly horrible at it either. He just didn't understand what it had to do with anything. Didn't they need to find out if the files had come in from DCFS?

"Get it please." Sharon walked around the room. She lifted the legal pad with all of their notes and began flipping through the pages until she reached the beginning. "Ricky, can you do a mock-up on the computer? We may need it."

"That shouldn't be hard." He rubbed a hand through his hair. "Mom, what's going on? What is this about?"

"An idea." She sighed. "I'll explain in a minute." Sharon ripped the pages out of the pad and began making new notes. When Rusty came back, still looking confused about the reasons behind her request, she had him set the board up at the other end of the table. Sharon joined him there.

She was quiet, looking between the notes in her hand and the board in front of them. Rusty looked up at her, but her gaze was intent. "Sharon?"

"We may not know who we're dealing with, Rusty." She leaned down and began moving the pieces. "But I think we'll be able to predict his next move." She placed her notes on the table in front of him.

Rusty lifted it. She had written fast, and her usual slanting scrawl was messy. She had filled in the dates of the events as if they were moves on a chess board. It wasn't just the events of the case, it was their reaction to it. "Oh my god." Rusty leaned in and took over. From the corner of his eye, he watched Sharon step back.

Two pawns forward, that would be Denise and Daniel's trip up the mountain. A pawn was taken. Denise. That had set off a chain of events in which the police had become involved and Sharon had come to Oregon. Slowly pieces were moved around. Room was made on the board. Then there was Emily's disappearance. Rusty took a bishop off the board and set it beside the pawn that had marked Denise. They may not have known about her abduction initially, but it was another move made by their opponent.

At the same time, Ricky had joined his mother. He had come to look after his cousin, and help however he could. A knight was moved forward on the board. With each move that he made with the pieces that represented them, Rusty was able to predict the move their opponent would have made in response. It looked as though he was spreading out, preparing a defense, but it was really a straight line, coordinated attack. As he arranged everything, Rusty kept glancing at Sharon's notes. With the bishop that was Emily gone, and Ricky's knight out of the way, he was able to remove the rook. That had been Stroh. Not necessarily a member of their team, but he had been murdered as a part of their opponent's strategy. Rusty saw Stroh as very much like a rook. He went where he wanted and did as he pleased. Now he was gone. Losing a rook wasn't a problem, Rusty didn't mind putting that piece beside the board.

Mid-week Andy had come to Oregon to be with Sharon. He moved another knight forward on the board. That had opened them up. He sat there for a moment, elbows leaning against the table and studied the layout. Move and countermove. It was as if their opponent had known what they would do before they did it. It was like he would know exactly how they would react to everything. How long, Rusty wondered, had this person been watching them before he acted? How long had he been planning this?

Rusty chewed on his lip as he realized that, in moving that second knight, he had left himself wide open. Of course the appropriate move would be for him to attack. That was the whole point of the bishop that he slid forward on the board. The only problem was, it was a rookie mistake. He wasn't watching his flank. They lost the bishop. Rusty removed Provenza's piece from the board and set it with the others. Any half decent player would see that as the warning that it was. He drew one of his knights back in to sure up his line; that would be Ricky, who stayed with his mother and was keeping an eye on his sister and cousin. The other continued forward, Andy's return to Los Angeles.

He looked up at Sharon. They were left with a scattering of pawns, two knights, a rook, and of course, the king and queen. He shrugged at her. "It's his move now."

"Yes." She had watched, in some amount of fascination as Rusty took her idea and put it into motion. She lay a hand on his shoulder as she leaned closer to study the board. "What will he do?" Anxiety churned in her stomach. There were a couple of options open, she thought, and Sharon didn't like either one.

Rusty shrugged. "The direct approach," he said, looking at the board again, "is to come directly at the queen. The rook can slide in and protect the king. The knights will move, but they are kind of limited by where they can go and how much they can do if he goes straight at her." Rusty reached out and rifled around on the table until he found a small pad of sticky notes. He marked the places on the board with where everything would end up with that move. "In the end, he's left himself open. The queen has him." He used a different color sticky note to simulate the second option. "Or, and this is what I would do, he needs to take out at least one of the knights. This one is the better option because of where it's at." Rusty tapped the top of the piece that he had designated as Ricky's. He heard Sharon's indrawn breath and ignored it. "The first instinct of any player is to try and move a defense forward, fill the hole that leaves behind. It's not possible. They always, always end up trying to use the Queen in that, and what happens is that she goes down." Rusty stopped speaking. He sat back, drew his hands away from the chess board as if it had burned him. He looked up at Sharon and felt just a little sick. "He's going to come at you through Ricky, and while you're trying to stop that, you'll go down, and all that is left is me."

"Yes." Sharon lay her hand on his back again. She turned and looked at her older son. While Rusty had worked at the board, Ricky had fed each move into the computer. She watched him hit a final key, as he added Rusty's predictions. "Checkmate."

Silence filled the dining room. They were looking at one another and the completed game on Ricky's computer screen. Neither of the options left open to them was all that great. They were backed into a bit of a corner, limited by their lack of knowledge. Rusty turned back to the board. "There may be a way out of it, but it's kind of a mess…" It wasn't exactly a fluid game, but now that he was looking at it, he thought he might be able to mount a counter attack.

"That it is." Sharon's lips pursed. "Rusty, the thing about chess is… I've never really had the patience for it. I think it's time we turn the board around a bit. I want him on the defense."

He frowned as he looked up. That made little sense, but then, as he thought earlier… Sharon wasn't much of a chess player. "What are you talking about? If the game is in progress, you can't just change it."

"Maybe he can't," she said. "I can. I'm tired of waiting. We've been playing this his way without knowing. Now he's going to play it mine." Sharon pulled out her phone as she turned, and was dialing as she left the room.

Rusty leaned back in his chair and looked at Ricky. "That might not be a good thing."

"Yep." Ricky leaned forward, chin in his hand. "She's mad."

"Yeah." Rusty drew the sticky notes away from the chess board and continued to study it. "In that really quiet, I'm plotting your demise, and I have a gun kind of way."

"Yep." Ricky reached across the table and knocked over the opposing king and queen. "He's screwed."

**-TBC-**


	17. Chapter 17

**Home and Hearts Aflame**

**by Kadi  
Rated: T**

**Disclaimer: **I do love this sandbox, but sadly it is not mine.

* * *

**Chapter 17**

It was a small airport, but still bustling with activity for a Saturday evening. Sharon waited near the baggage claim; her attention was on her phone while she listened for news of the arrivals. The seven o'clock flight from Reno, with originating service in Los Angeles, had already landed and now she was just waiting for its passengers to join her. Redmond wasn't a very large town, but she wasn't going to leave Lieutenant Tao or Detective Sanchez to fend for themselves on the first night in a new place. Not when she had requested their presence and so strenuously lobbied for it with Chief Taylor. They would arrange a rental car for them later, but for now, they would be with her.

It had taken some work to convince the Chief that she was right. He was arrogant and stubborn on any given day, but in this instance, he was also cautious. He had a missing detective, so he couldn't afford to be wrong in splitting up his elite squad of detectives even further. The simple fact was that they weren't going to find Lieutenant Provenza in Los Angeles. That was not the point of his abduction and it had been too long, he and whoever had taken him were already long out of the city by now. Sharon was sure of that; just as she was certain that their chess analogy was correct.

They had laid it out for the others, move by move. While Tao had thought of some counter moves that might have thrown their theory off, even factoring them in had given them almost the same endgame. Two separate conclusions were possible if they followed the model that their suspect had laid out for himself. Surprisingly, or perhaps not given the amount of time he had spent with Rusty over the years, especially during those first crucial early months, it was Buzz that pointed out the fact that it always going to come down to this. Rusty's life was not necessarily a chess match, but when approached as such from this angle, their suspect could clearly draw those conclusions. At every crucial juncture of the last few years, he was the king, the center piece, carefully protected by several other moving parts, and most especially by Sharon. From the very beginning she had protected him from foster care, and then from Daniel Dunn. There had been Wade Weller and at long last, Phillip Stroh himself.

Whatever the identity of their suspect, he had laid out his plans with that in mind, because the history for it was there. However long he had been watching and waiting, it wasn't hard to figure out that at the very center of everything, the Captain would protect Rusty. What the suspect had managed in his moves against them was to test the endurance of that defense. He was poking at them, testing them, teasing them perhaps. He was trying to move inside the line of their defense, and all the while, watching to see what would crack the queen's stalwart presence at his side. Would she continue to stand a stoic sentry at the risk of her family? Her children? Her career? What about herself? They were absolutely correct; he would come at her again. He would attempt to draw her onto the offensive. The ultimate endgame was in capturing the king, and the best way to do that in every game was in removing the queen from play. There was more than one way to accomplish that task. He could box her in, cripple her ability to defend and attack, or he could come at her more directly and simply remove her altogether.

They had a chance now to try and get out ahead of the situation. That was the argument that Sharon made. Provenza was no longer in Los Angeles and she had to believe that their suspect, given what they had theorized about his strategy, was either already back in Oregon with him, or very near to being back. They had the opportunity now to rally, and they could not afford to squander it on debate. The Sheriff's Department was doing their very best, but they were not experienced enough for this. Sharon wanted her people in place.

Taylor gave her two. It was all that he could spare. He had to also entertain the idea that she was wrong. He might not readily believe it, but he could not move an entire division to another state on an idea that could just as easily be incorrect. She requested Tao and Sanchez. Taylor would allow that much. She would have experience and she would have back up. Sykes and Flynn would remain in Los Angeles to work the evidence they had, and continue the search - just in case.

Movement nearby drew Sharon's attention, or perhaps it was the snort that came from her left. She glanced at her son. Her brows lifted as he shook his head in amusement. Sharon followed his gaze and her eyes widened. She straightened and took a step forward. "What are you doing here?"

"Well that's a fine hello." Andy scowled at her. "A guy spends all week flying back and forth, drops everything at a moment's notice, and that's how you greet him?" Amusement sparkled in his dark eyes and completely belied his stern, annoyed appearance. "You asked for detectives. You got detectives." He reached over and nudged Julio beside him. "See, what did I tell you? Darth Raydor."

The younger detective fought the urge to smirk. Instead he came to a stop and nodded once. "Captain."

"Detective Sanchez, thank you for coming. I know this was an inconvenience." Her attention was still on Andy, however. "I thought I asked for Lieutenant Tao. You're supposed to be in Los Angeles running the investigation. Why are you here, Lieutenant?" His humor wasn't having an effect on her. She continued to stare hard at him, wanting answers. This was not the agreement they had. Their relationship was not meant to get tangled up in their work. When she asked for Tao, she intended to get Tao. This was exactly the kind of behavior that she needed them to avoid.

It wasn't Andy that responded. Instead, beside him, Julio snickered quietly. "It's not his fault, ma'am." He glanced at the Lieutenant, while his eyes sparkled merrily. "Chief Taylor made him come."

Sharon's brows climbed even farther. "Made you come?" She continued to stare at him. "Just exactly _why_ did the Chief make you come here, Lieutenant?"

Andy just shrugged. "I annoy the everlasting hell out of him. He thought you might have more luck putting up with…" He stopped and looked at Sanchez. "How did he put it?"

Julio looked like he wanted to rock back on his heels. His mouth twitched toward a grin that he just barely managed to suppress. "Your ability to piss everyone off in a matter of seconds, Lieutenant." He reached up and scratched the top of his head as his gaze swung back to the Captain. "There might have been something about a story… you know, a Pope, a Chief, and a Mayor walk into a bar…"

"That might have done it." Andy nodded slowly. He looked at Sharon, completely unrepentant about it all. "I may have also told him to pull his head out of my ass since he couldn't pull it out of his own. He was willing to forget it if I got out of his sight. Way out. Hundreds of miles out." He pointed a finger at her before she could respond. "This is the part where I feel it necessary to remind you, there is a reason that you never leave me in charge."

"Evidently." Sharon folded her arms across her chest and glared at him. "It looks like I can't leave you alone for five minutes. What part of not irritating the brass is so far beyond your ability to comprehend that you would purposefully…" She trailed off when Sanchez snickered, but tried to cover it with a cough. Sharon's jaw clenched. "I will deal with you later, Lieutenant. Right now I would suggest that we get your things. I would like to get the boys home before it gets too much later." She had planned to take the two officers to the Redmond Inn, but she wasn't going to leave Julio there by himself. Sharon quickly calculated how much room they had at the ranch as she turned to her sons. "Do you think that maybe the two of you can help the officers with their bags?"

Rusty and Ricky were trying very hard not to laugh. Both immediately straightened and cleared their throats. "Sure." Rusty stepped forward. He bumped his shoulder against Julio's and took one of his bags, leaving him with the smaller carry on. "I would come with me if I were you. It's safer," he muttered.

"No kidding." Julio shouldered his carry on and followed. "Are they always like this?"

"You have no idea," Rusty muttered.

When Julio looked up, he found his captain glaring at him. He smiled widely. "I think we're going to the car now…"

"That would be a good idea." Ricky grabbed Andy's bag and led the way.

He waited until the others had gone. So did she. Andy could tell that she was irritated with him, and not in the usual _I love you, but you annoy me, and I'll overlook it because it's cute _sort of way that she typically let him get away with. "We may have exaggerated things just a bit," he began, and chose his words carefully. He watched her eyes flash again and knew that he was getting into dangerous territory. It was the place where he could hear two very distinct theme songs vying for control inside his head. The _Imperial March_ and the _Witch__'__s Broom Ride_. Andy gestured with his hands, "The joke thing didn't happen, but I did tell him to pull his head out of my ass. I know it sounds bad, but I can do that with Taylor. We go back Sharon, farther than you and I do. I worked with him for a long time before I defected to Priority Homicide because he was going to sell me out to save his own neck. I know firsthand and better than most people just what kind of snake he can be, I also know how far I can push with him, and before you start in on me," he added quickly, because he could tell that she was gearing up to give him an earful, "_he_ knows just how far he can push me before it blows up in his face. We were getting to that point. It's why he sent me up here. My hands were tied there and all that we were going to accomplish was one of us blowing our top for no damned good reason." Andy sighed. "Tao can run the division. He plays the politics, he pushes around the paper like a pro. Where you need me is where I can do the most good and that's not sitting behind a damned desk wringing my hands and trying _not_ to beat the crap out of some idiotic bureaucrat."

"What I need," she said at length, "is to know that my senior lieutenants can step up and do their jobs without having their hands held." Sharon shook her head at him. "As irritating as he may be, the simple fact is that Taylor isn't going anywhere. You're going to have to learn to deal with that, or you're going to put us in the position of having to make some very difficult decisions about your career. I get that you're upset, I do, and I'm worried about Provenza too, but I have to know that I can count on you to fill the gap that he has left behind. I'm not an idiot, Andy. I know full well that the only reason my transition to Major Crimes worked was because I had the two of you, and yes, your partner was a real jackass about it in the beginning, but he did his job. I will never pretend to understand the weird symbiosis that goes on between the two of you, but I've had the _two of you_ to lean on throughout all of this." Sharon sighed quietly, her expression softened while her voice lost some of the hard, steely edge she had used with him. "I know you don't want to think about it, but we both know that the reality of this situation dictates that the longer he is missing the chance of us getting him back alive goes down considerably. He's not..." Sharon trailed off when he looked away from her. She took a step forward and laid a hand on his arm. "He's not a young man anymore," she said gently, "and while I am hoping and praying for the best, we've all seen too much to be able to put the worst case scenario out of our heads completely. Even if we find him alive, Andy, he may not be able to come back to work, and if that happens, I am still going to need you. Now more than ever you and I need to be able to prove that this," she gestured between them, "isn't going to get in the way of our being able to do the job."

"Okay, first of all," Andy shifted where he stood. He pointed at her as his back straightened and his shoulders stiffened. A scowl drew his brows together. "Taylor's ability to piss me off has absolutely nothing to do with this," he mimicked her by gesturing between them and with no small amount of sarcasm seeping into his tone. "I can do the job, and I've been doing it, since long before I decided that you were less a pain in my ass than you used to be. Me being here has nothing to do with that and everything to do with the fact that as much of a backstabbing SOB as he is, Taylor knows that tying me to a desk isn't going to get anything done right now; I'm not that kind of cop. While we're on the damned subject, you know it too. So why the hell are we fighting about this right now?"

"_We_ are not fighting about anything," she said. Sharon closed her eyes for a moment. "Your boss is unhappy with your behavior, _we_ have nothing to do with it. I've never appreciated the machoism, you know that. How many times have I sent you to Anger Management and Diversity classes? Fine, you're not an administrator, I get that, and it's not something that you have ever strived for or wanted, but we don't always get what we want. Sometimes we have to take the bad with the good, and right now there is a lot more bad going around."

"Yeah well," Andy continued to press, feeling like there was more to it than what she was saying, "the only person here who has a problem with me being back is you. Taylor isn't an issue; it's why he got me out of his hair." His eyes narrowed as a thought occurred. "You wanted me in LA so I wouldn't be a target. You were trying to forfeit a piece from the board." When she looked away he snorted. "Now who is letting _us_ get in the way of the job."

Her jaw dropped open. Sharon's eyes widened. She shook her head at him, but the rebuttal died before she could even voice it. He was right. She had wanted him to stay in Los Angeles so that she wouldn't have to worry that he was a target with the new information they had about their suspect. That threw her; she never imagined that of the two of them _she_ would be the one who crossed that line and pulled the personal into their professional. Sharon turned away from him and began walking toward the exit, she didn't have the words to fill the silence that his realization had created. She had cautioned him so many times over the past few months about not doing precisely this, and without realizing it, she had leaped right across the line that _she_ had drawn for them.

A hand caught her arm and she didn't have to guess who it belonged to, especially when she was drawn backward and into him. His chest bumped against her back while his other arm slipped around her waist. She exhaled a ragged sigh at the feel of his lips against her ear. Her eyes closed. Sharon drew her bottom lip between her teeth and shook her head. "I'm trying to limit the damage."

"Your lover or your son," he said quietly, and let his voice rumble between them. "Odds are he'll come at one of us, and you're trying to limit your focus. No one can blame you for that, and you know something, it's actually pretty damned human. You're not a robot, Sharon, and no one expects you to be. Especially now. It's why he sent me up here. He just can't say it." Andy turned her in his arms. His eyes were dark, burning with a fury that he was barely able to contain. She didn't appreciate the machoism, but it was part of who he was. The son of a bitch had come after her family, was coming after her, and had snatched his partner. He was pissed. He figured he had a right to be. "Taylor is a snake," he continued, "but he's not always an ass. I'm here to watch your back. You asked for Mike and Julio, but he could have just as easily sent Mike and Amy. They're the two that will play the nicest with the locals and give the best impression of the team. This time he didn't give a shit about impressions. The LAPD takes care of its own, and you belong to us. This bastard came after us the first time when he came after your family. Provenza was strike two. We're going to find him, and we're going to do away with this psycho."

Sharon nodded silently. She had to be strong in front of the boys and Emily, and seem confident in front of her family. The Sheriff's department was an old boy's club and she was working hard to look competent in front of them too. She had forgotten that she didn't have to be any of that with Andy. She longed for the days when the separation between work and home had been simple and well defined. It seemed so very long ago now. More and more the two were becoming integrated, so much so that she hadn't even realized when the lines between her personal life and her job had blurred and she began using that job to shield her lover from the darkness that was barreling toward them. When he drew her close, Sharon leaned in to him. She let herself be held and sighed at just how right and comfortable it felt to have his strength surrounding her. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "You're right, I need you here. I'm just not—"

"Used to needing anyone but yourself," Andy finished, realizing almost at once where she was going with that idea. He drew back and let his hands slide into her hair. "I get it. I think we've been approaching this thing with us all wrong. We're not people who work together and just happened to be dating. I think it's time we faced the fact that we're people who want to be together and got lucky enough to work together too." Andy shrugged. He looked down, suddenly the one that was uncomfortable with the turn in conversation. "You know, it's a hell of a thing, I get to see my best friend pretty much most of everyday, and if I'm lucky, when I get home… I get to see her there too." He glanced up at her, eyes burning with emotion and all the things that he wanted to say, but couldn't quite seem to find the words for. "We are not the extracurricular activity that happens outside of work."

A smile slowly curved her lips. It lit her face and chased away the shadows that her fear and doubt had created. She rose up onto the balls of her feet and placed a soft kiss against the corner of his mouth. "Work is the place that we go outside of our life," she said softly, finishing the thought that he began. Somewhere along the way their priorities had shifted, but their thinking had not. At least hers hadn't, not completely. She wanted a life with him, and it was not the first time she had entertained that idea, there simply hadn't been time enough to dwell on it, and there still wasn't. What Sharon had not realized was that they were already living that life. She leaned into him and turned her face into his neck. "I'm glad you're here," she said, and meant it. "Let's go find your partner."

He settled his lips against her hair. "Let's go protect your son." His hands moved down her arms. He gave her hands a squeeze and held on to one of them as they started toward the exit, this time together.

**-TBC-**


	18. Chapter 18

**Home and Hearts Aflame**

**by Kadi  
Rated: T**

**Disclaimer: **I do love this sandbox, but sadly it is not mine.

* * *

**Chapter 18**

"I thought that I would find you out here." Ricky's voice filled the air. The hour had grown late since picking up his mother's colleagues at the airport. He doubted that anyone would be sleeping anytime soon, at least not among those three. After getting back to the ranch and making the introductions they had retreated to the make-shift murder room that his mother had thrown together, and were now deep into reviewing all of the clues, leads and evidence that had been gathered so far.

Rusty glanced at him before turning his attention back to the animals in the corral. The sound of gravel crunching beneath shoes had given away the fact that he was no longer alone. He was seated on the top rail of the wooden fence, watching the horses and enjoying the silence he found this far from the house. "Hey." He wrapped the cuffs of his hoody around his hands. It still amazed him that it could be so hot in Los Angeles right now, but he was almost freezing up here, at least once the sun was gone from the sky. "Did your mom send you out to play babysitter?"

"No." Ricky stepped up onto the fence and swung a leg over. He settled down beside his brother and let his gaze wander the dusky horizon. "Our mother," he said, with some emphasis, "did not send me out to do anything. You're pretty safe on the ranch. She worries but she's not paranoid."

A snort was his response. "Yeah? You obviously haven't lived with her in a while." Rusty shook his head. "I'm surprised that _our mother_," he said, and added a crooked grin, "hasn't texted me yet to find out where I am."

"Why would she?" Ricky slanted a look at him. There were security lights set up throughout the yard. One glowed brightly from a pole that stood tall near the stable. It cast the yard in hues of yellowish green. In that light his brown eyes sparkled an odd shade of black. "I mean, she doesn't have to text you. That's what the GPS is for. She just checks that every five minutes."

Rusty groaned. "Figures. But she's not paranoid," he said dryly.

"Nope. Not at all." Ricky grinned widely. He knew his mother all too well. She could be a little neurotic when it came to her kids and their safety, but it was only because she cared. It had taken getting older and looking back on his life as an adult to realize that if he'd actually had a father, and not just some guy who stopped by occasionally, she might not have needed to be so concerned about every little thing. She had no one to share the burden with, and sometimes it had come across as overbearing or overprotective. He looked at his brother again and his smile settled into a more serious expression. "It's just because mom loves you. You do know that, right?"

"Yeah." Rusty sighed. He felt the warmth that always settled inside him when he thought of Sharon and how lucky he had gotten with her; that she wanted him, that she had chosen _him_, despite everything and all the trouble that seemed to come with having him in her life. "I know. It's really not a problem. I just..." He shook his head, looked at his brother. _Brother_. That was something else he hadn't had before and was still learning to appreciate, and he did appreciate it, this family that Sharon had given him. "I just feel like, sometimes, that she's always worried about me and there's always _something_ going on, and it's because of me. If I weren't here, then maybe things would be better off for her, but then I feel bad because I know she doesn't want me thinking like that." He shrugged; his gaze fell to stare at the dirt below them. "Then I feel bad for being happy that I have her when all of this crap keeps happening because of me. I mean, I get that it's not really _because of me_, it just feels like that sometimes, you know?"

"I think so." Ricky thought about it while he sat there. He let his leg swing back and forth and watched as his heel scuffed against the middle rail of the wooden fence. "I'll never really be able to know what it's like to be you, but I can understand what you are saying. Em and I talked about it once. We were all going through a kind of rough patch. It was right before Em left to go to school. We thought that if Mom hadn't had us, then she could have lived her dreams. That maybe it would have been easier for her to walk away from dad. I mean, you've heard the story right?" He looked up at Rusty again. "The whole plan was for mom to pay dad's way through Law School and then it would be her turn. The only thing is, she had kids instead, and didn't get her turn. Dad turned out to be a deadbeat drunk and oddly enough, Emily and I liked having food and things like toys and clothes so mom had to work." He shrugged. "One of us was stupid enough to bring it up to mom, and I will neither confirm nor deny, but it was probably me." When his brother snorted in response, Ricky grinned. He had a habit of saying the dumb thing, and they all knew it. "It took us a little while to really understand that when mom said she didn't regret having us, or how her life turned out, she really meant it." He stared at his brother. "Mom doesn't regret having you, Rusty. I know it's different. It's crazy serial killers and police investigations instead of long hours and solo parenting, but mom made a choice. She chose with her heart, and she will never go back on that. You belong to her now, and I know that's weird for you sometimes because of your other mom, but that's how it is. She will take the bad, and she will never regret it, because at the end of it she's got the good too, and to her, _you _are the good."

Rusty looked away from him. He was suddenly a little uncomfortable, not with the direction that the conversation had taken, but in his response to it. His throat felt tight and moisture burned in his eyes. He didn't mind the warmth that filled his chest, though, or the way that he felt accepted by all of these people. He just didn't want Ricky to think that he was weird if he got a little choked up by everything. He took a moment to get it under control, and finally, he cleared his throat. He glanced over. A small smile formed. "You're getting kind of good at this brother thing, you know?"

"I am, aren't I?" Ricky beamed. "Stick with me," he nudged Rusty's arm with his elbow. "I'll be a pro in no time. I'll be way better than Emily by the end of the summer."

"Well, yeah..." Rusty smirked at him. "Because she's the _sister._ I think that kind of exempts her from the competition."

"Oh shut up." Ricky hopped down off the fence. "You know exactly what I meant."

"You were calling our sister a dude," Rusty continued to smirk. "Yeah, I got it. Wait until I tell her. I'm pretty sure her boyfriend is bigger than you are."

"Please." Ricky made a face. "He played football, but I am not afraid..." He waited a beat. "Besides baseball, I also ran track. He'll never catch me." He glanced toward the stable. The horses were making some racket, odd for this time of night, but not completely out of the ordinary. One of the barn cats probably had them riled.

Rusty laughed. "Check mark for Ricky in the column for the big-scaredy-runaway. Got it."

"You know what..." Ricky stared at him. "I hate to be the one to tell you this, Rusty..." He paused, waited for the other boy's brows to raise in question. "You were adopted."

"That just means our mother chose me," Rusty shot back. He slipped down off the fence rail and dusted off his jeans. "She got stuck with you." A plaintive sound from inside the stable drew his attention. "They've been doing that on and off since I came out here. What is going on with them?"

"The barn cats probably, or one of the dogs." Ricky shrugged. "Let's go get it out of there before it does something stupid, like get stepped on."

Rusty practically lit up. The corral was as close as he had gotten to any of the horses so far. Sharon had intended to bring him out to the stable, but her priorities were a little set at the moment, and with good reason. "Why do they call them barn cats," he asked as he followed Ricky into the stable. "Aren't cats just cats?" His nose wrinkled. He wasn't much of a cat person, and his last experience with one hadn't been so great.

"Well, yeah," Ricky shrugged. "These are just mousers. They aren't pets, and they can be pretty mean. We get them from shelters or the pound. They're well fed, but they live in the barns and keep the field mice and rats from getting into the animal feed or making nests in the hay. I know it sounds weird," he added, "but it's a farm thing. Every animal has a use. These are all vaccinated, well cared for and stuff. They're just considered work animals. Which I guess is better than the alternative, since they get picked up from the pound." He stopped just inside the stable and looked around. There was a long line of stalls stretched out in front of them. The scent of fresh hay and oats hung heavily in the air. It was the horses at the end of the lane that were stirred up. Ricky strode toward them. "One of the cats probably chased a mouse into the stall. Or one of the dogs chased a cat into it," he added dryly.

"I still can't believe Sharon grew up here," Rusty said. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoody as he walked along beside Ricky. His gaze was drawn into the stalls as they passed them. Most of the horses didn't even seem to care or notice them. Some of them pranced or tossed their heads in annoyance at the disturbance.

"Far cry from Los Feliz isn't it?" Ricky laughed. "Mom likes her shopping and high rises, but yeah, put her near the horses for more than a day and she will be like _Armani who_?" He slanted a look at Rusty and smirked. "Okay, maybe not to that extreme, but she loves it here too." He stepped up to each stall door as they passed, peeking in at the horses that were making all of the noise. One of them, a young gelding was particularly upset. Ricky pulled the sliding stall door open and stepped inside. The animal was prancing and tossing it's head. It snorted in distress when Ricky entered the stall. He found nothing amiss and closed it again.

"Maybe it's a good idea to keep the cats out of the stables," Rusty suggested, in response to the reaction the horses were having.

"That would kind of defeat the purpose of having them." Ricky pulled open another stall and stepped inside. On the other side of an upset quarter horse, something huddled in the shadows. He squinted to make it out. Ricky slipped his hand into his pocket. His fingers circled his cell phone. "Hey Rusty," he said easily, "you might as well go back to the house. Mom will kill me if you get trampled."

"Yeah, but if you get kicked in the head no one will know about it," Rusty shot back with a grin. "I mean, you do know what you're doing right? It's a horse, not a computer. You can't reprogram it."

"Good point," Ricky continued. He didn't want to get any closer to the shadowy form while Rusty was there. "Can you go and see if Uncle Mike is still up at the house? I may need him to help me get the horses settled down again."

"Don't you have a phone?" Rusty rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'm going. Who is the neurotic one now? I'm going to start calling you Sharon junior." As he turned, he bumped right into a solid form. Rusty jumped back, but the apology that was on his lips died when he realized he didn't recognize the person. It wasn't anyone he had seen around the ranch or house before. One of the stable hands maybe? "Sorry. Totally, my bad."

Ricky stepped out of the stall. He knew all of the men that worked for his uncle and grandfather. Most of them were his age or just a bit older. A few were nearer to his uncle's age, but for the most part they were young and healthy. This man was tall, slim, and there was a sickly pallor to his skin. Even if he hadn't looked unusual, Ricky didn't know him. That was cause enough, along with what looked like a body in the corner of the stall, to raise all kinds of alarms. Ricky was taller than his brother, but not much broader across the shoulders. He reached out and grabbed Rusty's arm to draw him back. "Rusty, _run_."

"I don't think so." Thin, cracked lips pulled back into what could have been a smile. Small, dark eyes narrowed into slits. "This one is coming with me. We've got an appointment."

Instinct had Rusty stepping backward. He bumped into Ricky and then shoved him to the side. "I think we're both going to go now," his voice shook with fear. Dread filled him. There were two of them and only one of this guy, who seemed frail, but for the cruel glint in his eyes. Who else, Rusty wondered, was going to get hurt now because of him?

"We're going," the man said. "But not all of us." He moved quickly. Light glinted off the blade for just a moment before it was plunged to the hilt into soft, meaty tissues. He smiled a second time. "You should have listened to little brother," he stated calmly, "you should have run."

Rusty turned slowly, eyes widening as time seemed to slow down. Ricky stumbled to the side and seemed to slump before slowly sinking to the ground. Bile rose, hot and bitter at the back of his throat. The world spun around him as he shook his head. He was rooted to the spot, frozen in his own fear, unable to move even when the man shoved Ricky to the side, and into the horse stall. It was only when he turned toward him that Rusty was finally able to move. He stepped back and started to turn, but his arm was caught in a vice grip. He remembered he had his phone at the same moment and reached for it. He barely managed to sweep his thumb across the screen before it was knocked from his hand. He opened his mouth to yell for help, but something sharp stabbed through his upper arm. He looked down as the plunger on a syringe was pressed. Panic seized him. Rusty began to struggle in earnest then, but his head started to swim. All too soon he felt heavy and his limbs stopped working. The interior of the stable grew darker. His stomach churned with anxiety and nausea, and then, there was nothing at all.

Pain seared through him. At first, all he felt was heat, and then moisture as blood pooled and soaked through his shirt. He had pulled the knife out, this man who was intent on ruining all of them. The blood was hot and sticky as it flowed around his fingers. Ricky gathered as much of his t-shirt as he could and held it to the wound, but with the pain came a sort of numbness. It swept through him, and although he tried to get up again, he just couldn't seem to manage it. His legs were weak, and his arms shook with the effort. He felt as though he may be sick and gritted his teeth against the nausea and the pain. He cried out as he moved, as that only added to the pain that he felt, and with every movement, there was another surge of thick, sticky liquid around his fingers.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, but it slipped out of his wet fingers. He fumbled for it and dirt and hay coated his fingers and the surface of the phone. The stable was getting pretty dim around him and he was becoming incredibly dizzy. He forced his eyes to remain open as he scrolled through his contacts, searching for his mother. When his fingers started to grow numb he wanted to cry with frustration, and not a little bit of fear. "No, no, no…" He couldn't pass out, not yet.

**MCMCMCMCMCMC**

The night was cool, but the air felt good across her skin. Sharon inhaled deeply and hoped that it would keep her awake for just a little while longer. She leaned against a porch post and smiled gratefully as a cup of coffee was placed in her hands. They had all needed a break, and while Sharon stepped outside, Andy had paused to pour the coffee. When he leaned in to kiss her, she turned her face to the side with a teasing smile. "Not in front of Julio, you'll embarrass him."

He grunted quietly and let his lips touch the curve of her jaw instead. "You kidding me? Keep this up and he'll think he's got a shot."

Sharon laughed as his arm circled her and she was pulled close. "I doubt that very much." She slipped an arm around his waist and tipped her head back. This time she let him kiss her and hummed quietly against his mouth. "I think you're biased," she said. "You keep forgetting that I remember when none of you liked me very much."

"For the record," Julio stepped out onto the porch with them. "I always liked you, ma'am. Flynn was slow." He smirked as he leaned against the porch post across from them. "He still is sometimes."

For just a moment Sharon was tempted to pull away from him, but it barely lasted the space of a single heartbeat before she reminded herself that this was her family's home and not police headquarters. "For the record, that's a nice try but I'm not buying it." She turned so that she could smile at the Detective, but continued to lean against her lover's side. "As I recall you were never very cooperative when I had to interview you."

"Of course not," Julio stated. "You were FID, no one ever cooperates with them." He flashed a cheeky grin at her. "You don't even like to cooperate with them now."

Andy chuckled. "We've been a bad influence." He reached up with his free hand and toyed with the ends of her hair

"Or a good one," Julio replied.

Sharon rolled her eyes at them. "I'm not going to comment one way or the other. They have their uses."

"Yeah." Julio's smile turned wistful. "Their cars make great targets for bean bag practice." He straightened suddenly and coughed. "I mean, yeah, very insightful those guys."

When Andy only barked a loud laugh in response, Sharon shoved away from him. She shook her head at them. "You two are horrible. I don't know how I put up with either of you."

"Says the woman who is still getting flowers on her birthday from her old team." Andy made a face at Julio. "She's cheating on us with the other guys. What does she expect us to do? Send them thank you cards?"

"That would be very thoughtful of you," Sharon said, just a bit airily and with a wide smile. "If you could sign them, with warmest regards, that would be wonderful."

"Ma'am." Julio stared at her, face serious. "I will do a lot of things for you. That isn't one of them." He pointed a finger at her. "When we find the Lieutenant, I'm telling him. You're a cheater. This behavior is going to have to stop. I'm very disappointed in you." He managed, just narrowly, to get the last word out before he snorted a quiet laugh.

Sharon smiled warmly at him, because through it all, he believed that they were going to find Lieutenant Provenza. The others were having a hard time avoiding the reality of it, but Sanchez refused to believe anything else. "Well," she said gently, "when we find him, you're welcome to do just that. I look forward to hearing his opinion on the matter."

"Oh hell." Andy could imagine just exactly what he would say on _that_ subject and winced in anticipation. "Maybe we could just keep that between the three of us," He hedged.

"Nope." Julio smirked at him. "Not a chance, sir."

"Damn." Andy sighed. "You know who's going to get that earful, right? It's not going to be her."

She reached over and gave his chest a gentle pat. "I'll make it up to you." Sharon blushed when she realized how that sounded. "I'll bake," she added quickly. "I'll make the brownies you like so much." She reached into her pocket when her phone began to ring. "You can give them to him," she laughed when his hopeful smile fell.

"Of course I can," he grumbled. He scowled darkly at Julio. "Oh shut up."

"Yes, Ricky." Sharon was still laughing when she answered the phone. "Don't tell me that you're calling me from upstairs."

"Mom." His voice shook from the effort to just stay conscious. "Stable." It was all he managed before he began to gag on the odd, metallic taste in his mouth.

All of the air rushed out of her lungs with a force that left her light headed. Sharon's fingers tightened around the phone. She turned where she stood and her gaze blindly swept the yard between the house and the stables. She drew a ragged breath and with the loud echo of her heartbeat ringing in her ears, Sharon sprinted across the yard. She was vaguely aware of the other two following her as she ran toward the large structure that housed the horses. Sharon wasn't wearing her gun in her father's house but when she reached the stable door, Andy and Julio hot on her heels, she knew that both of them would be.

In the seconds before she pulled at the door she looked at them, eyes dark with concern, lit with fear. "Weapons," she whispered, and eased the door open. Sharon didn't protest when Andy caught her arm and pulled her back. He had his gun held in his other hand. He jerked his head at Julio and gestured for him to go in first. Before he followed, she watched him stoop down to reach into a holster around his ankle. Sharon nodded silently when he came up with his backup weapon, a small, snub-nosed .38. She took it from him and felt oddly more secure with the familiar weight of a gun in her hand. She slipped her phone back into the pocket of her jeans and nodded. Her face settled into a stony expression, but she chewed nervously on the inside of her bottom lip.

They had known that something was wrong when her smile faltered, but it was not until her body straightened and she went completely alert that they realized it was related to the case. Andy was unprepared for her to take off as she had, but had followed quickly. She was small and fast, but his long legs had quickly eaten up the distance between them. As Julio stepped into the stable, Andy followed. The men looked at one another. Andy wagged his fingers toward the left side of the lane. They each took a side and began to move slowly forward, Sharon at their backs. She moved left with him and stayed two steps behind, moving only when they did and double checking every dark corner and shadow as they cleared stall after stall.

It was slow going, and her chest ached while anxiety churned in her stomach. As much as she wanted to rush forward and jerk open every door, Sharon held herself back. She concentrated on slow, measured breaths. The familiar scents of hay, oats, and horse filled the air around them. As they moved further into the stable, another scent grew stronger. It too was familiar. It was the metallic, sickly tang of blood. Her jaw clenched. Her fingers tightened, almost spastically around the gun in her hands. She realized when the two men ahead of her recognized it too. The muscles in Julio's arms bunched, his jaw clenched. He looked back at the two of them. His eyes had gone dark with fury.

Julio gestured ahead of them. One of the stall doors had been opened. He could hear the grind of his own teeth as his jaw ticked. His nostrils flared. The smell was stronger on his side of the stable. He met the Lieutenant's gaze before his eyes flickered to the Captain and back again. Whatever was ahead of them probably wasn't something that she needed to see, but they would never be able to hold her back. Like the two of them, there wasn't much that she hadn't already seen.

A silent nod was Andy's only response. He motioned for Julio to stay where he was. He turned where he stood and looked at Sharon. He held up a hand. He watched her eyes flash with impatience and worry, but his narrowed. Only when her jaw clenched and she nodded did Andy continue forward. He checked the stalls on his side of the stable. He eased the doors open as quietly as was possible and cleared each one. At the end of the lane, he checked the stable office and tack room. Then he turned and crossed over to stand opposite Julio.

Both men moved to the middle of the lane and converged on that location. They reached it together. Julio leaned forward and pushed the door further open. The sickly sweet smell of blood made his stomach clench. He steeled himself to the scene that they might find. He moved inside and quickly swept his weapon around the interior of the horse stall. He didn't look at either of the two bodies that lay inside. "Clear."

His voice was tight, angry. There was fury and grief ringing in it. Andy squared his shoulders and moved forward. His eyes swept the floor of the stall and the blood that was mixed with hay and dirt. His throat tightened as he turned away. "Check him," he growled. He stood in the door, blocking the way, and put an arm up to keep Sharon in place.

He was immovable. Her eyes widened at his behavior. "Lieutenant," her tone dipped. She pushed at him again but he was using his size against her. She felt her chest tighten. Her stomach clenched into a tight, painful knot. "_Andy_." He was blocking her view but most alarming was the sadness in his eyes.

"He's alive." Julio sounded as surprised as he was thankful. There was a weak, thready pulse, but it was a pulse just the same. There were two bodies and he moved to the second. It was too large to be Rusty. He moved to the corner where it lay and rolled it toward him. "It's the Lieutenant!" He was disheveled, dirty, and unconscious, but he too was alive.

When Andy stepped aside, Sharon rushed into the stall. She made a low, keening sound as she dropped to her knees beside her son. "Ricky." She gripped his chin with one hand and used the other to push his arm away from what seemed to be the source of his blood loss. "Oh god." Sharon quickly shrugged out of her sweater and balled it up to press against the wound. "_Richard_." She rolled his head toward her and shook him. His eyes fluttered even as moisture filled hers. "Come on baby, hold on." Sharon looked up, feeling helpless when hands covered hers. She found Andy kneeling opposite her and in the background she could hear Julio requesting ambulances and backup. Her gaze quickly dropped again. The body beneath them shuddered and groaned. Sharon leaned down and swept his hair back from his brow. It was damp and much too cool to the touch. Clammy. "Ricky," she whispered his name again, "look at me."

"Rusty." He muttered. Ricky couldn't open his eyes. He couldn't make his body move. He couldn't feel a lot anymore. He was freezing, however, and when he spoke his teeth chattered. "Got Rusty. Mom… I'm sorry. I tried."

"No." She shook her head. Sharon pulled his upper body into her lap and gathered him close. "No, honey, it's okay. You did fine." Tears clouded her vision. She shook her head again and they slipped free to slide down her cheeks. "You are okay," she said, with much more conviction than she felt. "Just hang on, Ricky. Help is coming."

He was cold and she was warm. Ricky turned his face into her stomach. He felt like he was gasping for air. "No, mom," he whispered weakly. "Checkmate."

"_Ricky_." She shook him when he went still and limp against her. "No. Oh no. No, no, no, no, no…" Sharon lay trembling fingers against his neck and felt nothing. She looked up, eyes seeking Andy. Her mouth opened but there was no sound. She shook her head at him, helpless and at a loss.

He moved at the same moment that she had. Andy drug Ricky away from her. "Take her," he barked at Julio and practically shoved Sharon away from her son's lifeless body. He leaned over him and began CPR, not sure that it would do any good but refusing to give in to the idea that they had lost or been beaten.

Julio wrapped an arm around his Captain and lifted her. He turned her away and walked out of the stall with her. She had never seemed so small to him before. At first, she went easily, but when she realized that he was taking her _away_ from her son, she began to fight him. Julio locked his arms around her and held on, even while she kicked and clawed at his arms. The doors at the other end of the stable opened. He had also called up to the house to let the inhabitants know what was happening. Several men strode toward them, and seeing the Captain, two of them began to run. "You're the brother right?" Julio tossed her to him. "Keep her out of there," he ordered. He went back in to help, with the one that he thought was the doctor.

Whatever happened, one thing Julio was sure of; the desperate, panicked screams of a mother whose child was dying in front of her eyes would haunt his dreams for a long time.

**-TBC-**


	19. Chapter 19

**Home and Hearts Aflame**

**by Kadi  
Rated: T**

**Disclaimer: **I do love this sandbox, but sadly it is not mine.

* * *

**Chapter 19**

By the time that the ambulance had arrived they managed to get him back. It was tenuous at best, but they had a weak pulse and he was breathing. If not for Jacob and the emergency supplies that were kept on hand, the outcome might have been a lot different. It was a ranch. They dealt with large animals and equipment; sometimes accidents just happened. A couple of the ranch hands were trained medics, hardly professionals, but they could stave off catastrophe. Jacob had broken out the large first aid kit and with Andy and Julio's help, did what he could to get Ricky back and keep him among the living.

The emergency lights lit the yard. The flash of the blue and red bulbs was a bit sickening. Sharon had never really considered before just how blinding and disconcerting they could be. They cast odd shadows as they flickered in the night. She stood silent, her attention drawn to the play of lights against the doors of the ambulance once they were closed. Jacob was going with Ricky. He was still giving orders to the paramedics as they loaded her son into the back of the rig.

As it pulled away she felt a desperate need to run after it, but her legs were rooted to the spot. Her head turned as her name was called. She blinked slowly and stared at the owner of the voice. Her sister was waiting to drive her to the hospital, along with their parents. Sharon blinked again and looked away from her. She watched the ambulance as it moved down the drive. The lights continued to glow in the distance even after she couldn't see the vehicle any longer.

When a hand touched her arm she looked up. Michael was beside her. She tilted her head at her brother. His lips were moving but his words made little sense. He wanted her to leave, to get in the car. They were all going; they would take her to Ricky. Sharon closed her eyes. She shook her head. "No." She turned away, but it cost her. Every step she took that put more distance between herself and the departing ambulance was pain, hot and sharp and cutting right through her. "Go without me," she said. Her hands felt sticky, and the blood staining her blouse and jeans had grown stiff.

"Sharon." Michael frowned as he jogged to catch up with her. He caught her arm again and pulled her around. She was pale. He thought maybe she was even in a bit of shock. "Look, you're not driving yourself. Susan will bring you a change of clothes. Let's just get in the car."

"Michael." Her voice hitched. Sharon shook her head. "I have to change because the blood will distract the dogs. I can't go anywhere because I still have to find Rusty." She bit down on her bottom lip with enough force to bruise it, but it kept it from trembling. "Ricky got hurt protecting his little brother and I'm not going to allow that to mean nothing." Moisture filled her eyes again. They had felt dry and gritty; they ached from the tears already shed and she thought perhaps she was incapable of shedding anymore. She was wrong. So damned wrong about all of it. "I'll be there as soon as I can," she whispered, "but Rusty is my son too, and I can't…"

He took a step forward. Michael gripped her shoulders and drew her closer. His eyes closed when she shuddered. She couldn't lose them both. She just couldn't bring herself to say it. "Okay," he said finally. "We'll go." It went in the face of everything that he was ever taught. From the day that she was born, he was her protector, friend, and sometimes even partner in crime. They had fought, plotted, and covered for each other while growing up. This time, however, there was more for him to protect than just his little sister. "Be careful," he said thickly.

"I will." She stood there, a bit stiff at first, but her arms came up and she hugged him back just as tightly. She wanted to cry, to rail, and completely fall apart… much as she had in the stable while they were losing him. She couldn't do that now. There was still too much else at stake. Instead, she drew a thin breath and let it out slowly. "Take care of my baby," she whispered.

Michael drew back so that he could look down at her. "I will." His brow arched. "Who takes care of you, Shari?" It was an old game, from a time when there had been school yard bullies and whiney younger siblings. It dated back to falling off swings and being bucked from her first horse.

She had to bite her lip again. She cleared her throat, but there was no familiar smile to go with that old game. Even though this time the old nickname did not bother her. "You do, Mikey." Her hands slid down his arms and she gave him a gentle push. "Go," she said. "I'm well taken care of here."

He looked behind her to the Lieutenant who had returned. The man who had barked orders, growled at his father, and given all of them their marching orders until help had finally arrived. He had been unashamed and unapologetic about it, even after the initial adrenaline had faded and Ricky had been loaded into the ambulance. He hadn't needed worried family members underfoot while they were trying to save the young man's life. The other one, the younger detective had followed suit. He had been a body block between Sharon's siblings, her father, and her son. Only Jacob had gotten close enough, and only because he was a doctor. The older Lieutenant, the one they'd found unconscious in the stable had been sent away in an ambulance too. The detective had gone with him, in the hopes that he could get a statement that might do them some good. He would know what to ask better than the sheriff's deputies would. They were all too busy now anyway, one of the boys was still missing.

Michael nodded. "Yes, I think you are," he said. "I'll call you," he promised, "as soon as I know something."

"Thank you." Sharon watched him move away and turned when she felt a presence behind her. She tilted her head at Andy in askance. "You sent Julio with Lieutenant Provenza?"

Andy nodded once. "He'll know what to do." He held up a change of clothes and the holster that held her gun. He had known that Sharon wouldn't go with her son. Not while the other one was still in danger. "Go change in the stable office." He had done the same, very quickly. The smell of the blood would confuse the dogs. "I brought down Rusty's hoody. He was wearing the red one, the blue one was still in his room." It was the blue one that he favored the most. That would work in their favor. "I gave it to dog handlers. You've got a few minutes to change while they get the animals primed."

She reached up to lay her hand against his chest and then realized that it was still smeared in blood. Sharon let it drop again, but her gaze didn't waver. "I'm sorry." She was sure that she had said a few unkind things to him during those frantic moments as she had been torn away from Ricky while he worked to save him. Sharon wiped her hands on her jeans and did her best to rub away the now dried blood before she accepted the change of clothes from him. The weight of her gun was a cold comfort now.

He took a step forward and slipped his hands into her hair. He tipped her head back and dropped a quick, hard kiss onto her mouth. "Our kids come first. For both of us. I'd have done the same if it had been one of mine. It was… not a great moment. Besides, I am a mean bastard." Those words had come out of her mouth, and in that moment she had meant them, but he knew that she didn't believe them. Her child was dying, and she was being kept away from him. He'd be more concerned if she hadn't come unglued. "Now go change," he said. "So we can go find your son."

Her eyes closed and she nodded. "Five minutes," she said. Although she doubted that it would take her that long. She hated the idea of walking back into the stable, but the house was farther away. She didn't want to lose the time it would take. Every minute that they lost was a chance of not finding Rusty. More than wanting her son back, safe, and with his family where he belonged… she had a promise to keep. She had promised to keep him safe, but she had also promised that he would never be _lost_ to her.

"_If I ever end up in a box like this, I'd like to know that there's at least one person out there who'd go look for me."_

"_Oh, I would look for you, and I would find you."_

She was going to find him. She had to believe that. Nothing else would do.

Andy watched her go and sighed. He knew that she would be torn between them. Ricky was touch and go, but Rusty was missing. Both of her boys were in danger, and it was an impossible situation. In the end, there was really only the one choice to make. She could pray for Ricky just as strongly while she searched for Rusty as she could if she were stuck in a waiting room. She could will him to live, but there was nothing that she could do for him beyond that. For Rusty there was still the chance that she could save him. Andy scrubbed a hand over his face and into his hair. "Hell," he muttered, and thought that summed it all up nicely.

When Sharon returned the search and rescue teams were ready to begin. The dogs picked up the trail easily, but it died a quarter of a mile from the stable. They shined flash lights around the area and picked up tracks. It looked as though a vehicle had been used to cart Rusty away and was headed to one of the small access roads that led off the ranch. Those narrow road ways were used for deliveries and moving livestock. It had been too much to hope that whoever had taken Rusty would remain on foot just a little while longer. Long enough, at least, for them to catch up.

"Unless they were disabled," Sharon told the deputies, "there are security cameras on all the gates. We may be able to get footage of the vehicle they were in leaving the property."

Andy's brows drew together in a deep frown. "Do you have access to the system?" Her brother and father were both on their way to the hospital now, and there were not any ranch hands on the property this late in the evening.

"Yes." Sharon started walking back toward the house. "We'll have to use the computer in my father's study, but I can get into the security system. It's not that complicated." She shrugged. "Ricky set it up for them a few years ago. The system itself is fairly state of the art, some of his best work, but he kept the user interface simple. It was a redesign of a program he did for his graduate project."

He heard the hitch in her voice as she spoke of her son. The deputies were silent on the matter, respectful, as they followed. Andy lay a hand against the small of her back as they walked. She wouldn't allow anymore comfort than that, not while she was trying so hard to hold herself together. He wanted to believe that if their positions were reversed that he would be able to show the same amount of strength, instead, Andy was imagining himself more than halfway through a bottle. That only led him to wondering what would come of Jack in this situation. The last thing that she or her children needed right now was him falling off the wagon because the strain of the situation was too much. He made a mental note to text Julio. He would get the detective to have someone watch Jack; maybe he would step up, find it in himself to be a man and a father. If he didn't, if Jack went upside down on the situation, maybe someone could pull him back before he managed to hurt his kids more than they already were.

"What about the main yards or the buildings?" Deputy Andrews stayed a couple of steps behind them. He didn't want to intrude; it was a tough thing for anyone to go through, but he had questions that he needed answers to if they were going to recover the other son relatively soon. "Are there any cameras around the house or outlying structures?"

Sharon shook her head. "I'm not sure. The stables, probably, because of the thoroughbreds and equipment. The trainers keep some powerful medications for the horses on hand. It's locked up, but the tranquilizers are pretty powerful and some of them are very expensive." Not that she imagined _anyone _ who worked for the family would be tempted to steal or abuse their position, however, anything was possible. "Most of the system is geared toward the perimeter fences and gates. It's a big ranch, it takes time to check all of the fences on a routine basis, the cameras were meant to cut that time in half."

She was rambling now, but Andy shot a look at the deputy. He would let her. They didn't need to know about the more innate workings of the ranch. As long as her mind kept working and she didn't withdraw, as he had been worried she would earlier, she could talk about whatever she needed to. He knew that it wasn't a distraction, nothing would keep her mind off of Ricky or Rusty, but it was keeping her from dwelling on what she could not change. "Do you have any helicopters we can get in the air," he asked the deputy, "if we can identify the vehicle? There is a lot of rural highway out here. We're limited on ways of tracking this guy once he gets on the road." In Los Angeles they could use traffic cameras, or security footage from stores and other businesses to spot a vehicle they were searching for. Out here, that just wasn't possible. Security cameras were not hanging from trees on the off-chance that they just happened to be needed.

"We have a bird down in Bend," Andrews replied. "We can get it fueled and ready. Will the one do it?" He was out of his depth here, and he knew it. What had seemed like a simple case of a guy doing away with his girlfriend had turned into something he had never imagined it could be. "We can call down to Klamath Falls, but it would be a couple of hours before it got here."

"Do it," Andy told him. "You've got a lot of ground for us to cover. We might need both."

While they discussed strategy, Sharon led them and the other two deputies into the house. She strode toward her father's study, where she accessed the computer that was on the credenza behind his desk. He didn't like it cluttering up the old desk, he always said that he liked to see the people that were standing or sitting in front of him. It was a minor miracle he had the computer in there to begin with. Sharon knew that he had held out for as long as he could before ever having it added to his home office. The information that her father kept on the machine was limited. It was simple enough to find the security program that Ricky had created for them. She brought it up and took a few minutes to search through the database of available camera feeds. There was only a single camera in the stable.

Sharon accessed the footage. The feed from the camera saved into short fifteen minute video files. Sharon checked her phone for the time stamp of when Ricky had called her. She accessed the footage that would cover that time stamp. She glanced up when she felt a hand settle on her shoulder. In Andy's gaze she saw understanding and concern. What they would see would be difficult to watch. She reached up and covered his hand with hers. Their fingers laced together and she concentrated on the warmth of his palm as it seeped through her shirt and the feel of his hand gripping hers as they watched the boys enter the stable.

"It looks like they heard something," Sharon said quietly, but she was only guessing at this point. "They're checking the horse stalls, but if the animals were distressed…" Ricky was familiar enough from summers and holidays spent on the ranch that he wouldn't be overly concerned by noises coming from inside any of the barns or stable. She felt the grip on her hand tighten and took a thin breath. They had neared the stall where Ricky had been found. Sharon wanted to avert her gaze but didn't. There was no sound from the security footage, but the boys were talking, and from the looks of it, laughing. Neither of them had been concerned or frightened. Sharon bit down on the inside of her lip at Rusty teasing Ricky. All that she could think was that they had come so far.

They couldn't see inside the horse stall, but Andy leaned down to get a better look at the computer monitor. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Deputy Andrews doing the same thing on Sharon's other side. His jaw clenched as Ricky stepped inside. They lost sight of him for a moment. Rusty was still talking, however, and gesturing with his hand. He felt a chill run down his spine as another figure entered the camera's view. Tall and older, thin but not entirely frail looking. When Rusty turned, he bumped into the man, and Andy felt Sharon flinch.

He knew that she held her breath throughout the rest of the encounter. Andy felt like doing the same, but instead his jaw clenched and his eyes remained focused on the screen. When it was over, the man had turned, and they got a look at his face. "Freeze that," he reached down and did it before Sharon could. "Send that to Tao. He can add it to the BOLO we put out with Buzz's composite reconstruction."

"Yes." Sharon was already capturing a copy of the image to send to the Lieutenant. After it was sent, and while she dialed the Lieutenant to inform him of what was needed, she brought up the footage of the west gate. In a matter of minutes they had another image, this time of the vehicle that he was driving. It was a fairly new, but non-descript compact crossover. They were able to get the license plate, however, and whether the vehicle as actually his or stolen, they wouldn't know until the number was run through both California and Oregon databases.

It was a break, something to hold on to. They were a step closer to finding Rusty. It was hope at least. Perhaps Ricky was wrong. It wasn't a checkmate after all, but rather a misdirected move. Their suspect had finally made a mistake.

Andy looked over at the Deputy. "Get your birds in the air. It looks like he was headed west." They wanted to find him before he got into the mountains. He stepped back as Sharon stood and let his gaze fall to rest on her. He waited until the deputies left the study. They had their job to do. "We get eyes in the air," he began, "and we find that car, but it's still going to be a waiting game. There's nothing that you can do right now."

She folded her arms across her chest. "I disagree." Sharon shook her head at him, "Andy, what am I going to do? Rusty is still out there and I am not just going to sit here—"

"No." He interrupted gently. He placed his hands on her shoulders. "Not here, Sharon. You should go and be with Ricky. We know what we need to do now to find Rusty. We've got a direction and we have a plan. Look," his hand moved to her neck, and his thumb stroked gentle circles over her pulse point, "I know you want to be part of this, and I know that there's a part of you that _needs _to be a part of this, but you know as well as I do that you going with us to apprehend this psycho is a bad idea. Think about it, Sharon. If you're with us and something goes wrong…"

Her eyes closed. Sharon sighed. "He could get off on a technicality, or we could open ourselves up to a lawsuit of some kind." She reached up and gripped his wrists, but did not remove his hands. Instead, she held on to him and leaned into his touch. "I cannot believe that _you_ are quoting the rule book to _me_."

Andy managed a small, wry grin. "Well, weirder things have happened." He arched a brow at her. "You and me for example. Just maybe you've been a bad influence."

"Hm." She lay her cheek against the back of his hand. "Or a good one," she countered. She couldn't smile, her lips just wouldn't form the motion. "Andy, I don't know if I can just sit in a hospital and wring my hands while I wait. Not while Rusty is still out there." Her voice dipped as it grew thick with emotion. "I promised him that I would find him; that I would always, _always_ find him."

"I know." He cupped her face in his hands. "You've done what you can; let us do the rest." His head lowered, and his tone dipped, growing deeper. "I am going to find him," he promised. "I will bring him back to you."

She nodded silently. She believed him, and more than that, she believed _in_ him. Sharon leaned in to him, and when his arms circled her, she turned her face into his neck. "I know," she whispered.

His hands stroked her back. Andy held her for another moment before he forced himself to set her away from him. "I'll get you a ride to the hospital," he said. "I'm going with the deputies."

Sharon took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Okay." She nodded once and stood a bit straighter. She squared her shoulders. "I will talk to Julio and coordinate on this end with Lieutenant Tao. I'll make sure that we keep you updated."

At least, if she was doing that much, she wouldn't only be waiting, Andy thought. "Do that," he said. "Let me know how Provenza is. We should be hearing something soon."

"I will." She touched his arm and did manage a small, gentle smile. She knew that he was still worried about his partner. "Go," she told him, "before I stop you."

Andy slipped a hand into her hair and drew her forward. He kissed her quickly before he stepped around her. He strode out of the room, but stopped at the door to glance back. Their eyes met again, briefly. Hers were dull with concern for both of his boys. His burned with determination. He wasn't going to let her wait long.

**MCMCMCMCMCMC**

The news that Sharon received when she arrived at the hospital was only that Ricky was still in surgery. Jacob promised her that they had not lost him again, although he had not been entirely stable when they took him up. She had checked on Lieutenant Provenza next, only to learn from Julio that he was still unconscious, but not too worse for the time that he had been missing. He had a few minor injuries and was mildly dehydrated. Like Emily he had been drugged, and the medical staff was pushing IV fluids into his body to flush the drugs. They were hopeful that he would wake up soon. She filled Julio in on the plan and put him to work playing liaison between the rest of their team in Los Angeles and the team searching for Rusty.

Satisfied that she had done all that she could for the moment, and with most of the family occupying the waiting room, Sharon made her way to Emily's hospital room. Only Sam and Jack were present and she was a little relieved at that, until she realized that she had left the task of telling her daughter and ex-husband that Ricky had been so seriously injured to the others of her family. Her mother and done it, she knew. Only she would have had the patience to deal with Jack or to recall that despite all that happened, he was still Ricky's father.

As Sharon stepped into the room, Emily looked up, hope and uncertainty lighting her dark eyes. "Rusty?" She was already well aware that her brother was still in surgery, with his condition critical.

"Not yet." Sharon let her gaze sweep the room as she entered. Jack was grim faced and silent on a chair in the corner. Whatever they had been to each other, and whatever had become of them over the years, she could not forget or deny that they'd had Ricky at a time when she had loved him deeply. She stopped beside him. Her hand landed lightly on his shoulder. "I'm sorry," she murmured, "I should have called."

He wouldn't deny that he was momentarily irritated that he'd heard it from someone else, or that she had lagged behind to look for the other one. It was a reaction that he had pushed aside. He knew that she loved that boy, as much as she loved Ricky, or Emily, and he knew enough to know that her window for finding him was a narrow one. The kid didn't deserve to be lost because he was a selfish bastard. He studied his ex-wife carefully. She was pale, and though she was trying to hide it, he could see the fear. For the first time in all the years that he had known her, Sharon looked every one of her years.

Jack covered her hand with his and shook his head. "Don't be. Any leads at all?"

She hummed quietly. "We think so. We caught him on the security camera in the stable, and we got a good shot of his car from the camera at the west gate. There's a BOLO out and my team is running the license plate through both California and Oregon databases." She looked across at Emily and tried to smile for her daughter. "We have two helicopters in the air and our best people are looking for him."

Emily's gaze moved to the door and the window that gave her a view into the hall. She looked at her mother again, more concerned now that she was alone. "Andy?"

Beneath her hand she felt Jack tense but his hand squeezed hers before it dropped away. "He's looking for Rusty," Sharon said. She moved away from her ex-husband and smiled gratefully when Sam moved from where he sat on the edge of Emily's bed to make room for her. "He is exceptionally stubborn. If anyone will find your brother…" She sank down on the edge of the bed and ran a hand over her daughter's hair. "How are you?"

"Momma, I'm okay." She wrapped her hand around her mother's wrist and drew her close. "You don't need to be worrying about me, especially right now." She shifted over on the bed to make room, and then leaned into her mother's side once she had settled there with her. "Why aren't you looking with him?" She asked. "Ricky would understand. He's going to be worried."

"There just isn't anything for me to do right now." Sharon wrapped her arms around her daughter and felt a little better at being able to hold at least one of her children. "I trust that Andy and the deputies have it well in hand."

"What happens next," Emily hated to ask, but thought that the question needed to be put out there. "If they don't find him? What do we do then?"

Sharon hadn't wanted to think about that, but the thought had run through her mind too. Her eyes closed; she held her girl closer. "We keep looking until we do. We won't stop until we find him."

The hitch in her voice, the quiet desperation, it made Emily want to cry. She'd always hated when her mother was sad, and especially if she was the cause. That wasn't the case this time, but it still made her heart ache to know just how badly her mother was hurting and how afraid she must be with all that was happening. "Mom, I'm sorry," Emily whispered. "I haven't been that great with him. It's just been so awkward. I feel like I still don't know him. I'll do better," she promised.

"You don't know him." Sharon combed a hand through her daughter's hair. "That's not your fault, Emily. You're living your own life and that happens to be on the other side of the country. It's equally as hard for Rusty to open up to those he doesn't know. You don't have to do anything differently, honey. There will be time." She prayed that was true.

"It's just been so easy for Ricky…" She trailed off and frowned when her mother laughed, quietly, and with little humor. "What?"

"If you'd been here when they first met you would know just how untrue that statement is." Sharon sighed. "Ricky was very reluctant about Rusty joining this family." She cut a look at Jack as she said it. She knew that he had been involved in that, although she had never called him on it. Their son had corrected his own behavior quickly enough, so she hadn't felt it necessary to involve Jack any farther into Rusty's life than he already was. "That changed, but Emily, it was easier for the boys because they see each other more often. It isn't a criticism," she quickly added, "it's just the way that it is. As they've gotten to know each other better their relationship has grown. I imagine that much the same will happen for you and Rusty one day." She hoped that it would. Sharon prayed that they would have that chance.

A soft knock at the door drew everyone's attention. Detective Sanchez stood there, looking just a bit ill at lease for having to interrupt. "Ma'am," his gaze quickly swept the room. Finally his eyes landed on Emily and he nodded once, acknowledging the fact that it was her room that he was intruding upon. "Do you mind if I borrow her," he said, and his eyes flickered to her mother.

"Of course not," Emily swept a hand beneath her damp eyes as she leaned away from her mother. "Go right ahead."

"I won't go far," Sharon said quietly. She swung her legs down off the bed and made her way toward the door, but not without glancing back. She felt a little better when Sam returned to his place beside her daughter. "Detective," she spoke quietly as she stepped just outside the door. "Do you have something for me?"

"Maybe." Julio drew her farther from the room, and toward the end of the hall. He was putting distance between them and the rest of her family gathered in the waiting room at the opposite end of that floor. "We took the composite reconstruction that Buzz did and sent it out to other departments," he explained, reminding her of the process they'd followed in looking for Lieutenant Provenza. "Tao started getting calls earlier this evening from departments in Eastern California and Nevada, small towns off of interstate 80. The description in the composite matched a guy that was wanted in the disappearances of four women…" Julio paused. He frowned while all of that sank in for her. Then he added, "And their sons."

Sharon felt a chill run down her spine. She folded her arms across her chest as she listened. "Why wasn't this mentioned before," she asked, knowing that there had to be a reason that she was only hearing it now.

"We were waiting for more information. Tao and Amy have been trying to run these guys down and find out if they were talking about the same man, and if they had a name and more information." Julio shrugged. "We just didn't have enough to know if it was really a lead. The composite wasn't great. Mike called each of the departments back after you sent the photo of the guy in the stables. Two of the departments have confirmed that he's their suspect. A third came up with a name. Howard Jenkins. Does that mean anything to you?"

"No." Sharon frowned. Her gaze drifted as she turned it over in her head. "It seems familiar, but I don't think I've ever heard it before. "Why?"

"There was a woman in North Auburn that was killed three years ago. She was at a rest stop with her eleven year old son. Their car had broken down. He offered to give them a ride into the next town. There's nothing out in that area for miles, so apparently she went with him," Julio explained, reciting the story as he had gotten it from Tao. "The man told them that his name was Howard Jenkins, but he didn't go to the next town. The son got away, but the mother's body was found a few days later. It's the son that identified him from your photo." He sighed. "Looks like our guy has a specific M.O. He targets women and their sons, usually teenage boys around thirteen or fourteen."

Sharon's lips pursed. She was still running the name through her mind. She froze suddenly. Her hand reached out and wrapped around his upper arm. "Julio." Her eyes widened. "Not Howard Jenkins. Have Mike pull our file on Henry Jenks." She felt herself go cold as she made the connection. Her stomach clenched painfully. She knew now why it seemed so familiar. "Mothers and their teenage sons…"

He stared at her. It took Julio longer to put the pieces together. When he did, his eyes darkened. "Wade Weller."

"Yes," she whispered. "The man that paid his mother for him; he didn't kill Ryan Mills's mother, but he did get rid of her. He didn't kill Ryan either."

"No," Julio stated darkly. "We did that."

"Lieutenant Provenza did that," Sharon pointed out. "When he shot Wade in the head."

"So it was about revenge," Julio said. "This guy turned Ryan Mills into Wade Weller, and then we got rid of him."

"Yes." Sharon drew a thin breath. "Phillip Stroh sent Wade after Rusty. He put the whole thing into motion, which explains the murder. If not for him, then he never would have known that Rusty existed. It's so rare that serial killers take a partner, and even rarer when they take an apprentice. My god, Julio, I think that's exactly what Jenks did. That's why he left the boy's mother. He gave her the power to destroy herself, effectively ridding him of her, while he disappeared with her son. Instead of killing him, he taught him."

"He won't be able to avoid his pattern," Julio pointed out. "That's why he didn't kill Emily, and it's why he hadn't killed the Lieutenant yet. It's you and Rusty that he wants."

"It's Rusty that he has," she said quietly. "But if you're right, then there's still time to get him back." Her heart was beating rapidly. She ran a hand through her hair. "Okay," she said, and tried to calm her racing pulse. "He won't act without me; let's hope that we're correct about that. Call Mike back, get everything that we can, and pull the file that we created on Jenks during the Weller investigation. I'll call Andy. If we box Jenks in, he may choose to discard Rusty completely."

"Not if we get him first," Julio said darkly. He stared at his Captain. "Don't worry ma'am. We'll find him before anything happens."

"I know, Julio." She managed a small smile. "That's exactly what I'm counting on." They'd never let her down before, she didn't imagine they would start now.

**-TBC-**


	20. Chapter 20

**Home and Hearts Aflame**

**by Kadi  
Rated: T**

**Disclaimer: **I do love this sandbox, but sadly it is not mine.

* * *

**Chapter 20**

They picked a staging area near the center of the county; there were police vehicles and a few personal automobiles gathered in a field that served as the county fairgrounds once a year. It had taken time to get everyone gathered, and to get the helicopter fueled and ready. The bird they were borrowing from Klamath Falls had not arrived yet, but they were expecting it would be soon. They were planning a manhunt and utilizing all available personnel. Off duty and reserve officers had showed up, along with the state police that were assigned to that region.

Deputy Nathan Walker unrolled a map onto the hood of his county vehicle, a marked truck with four-wheel-drive. "Okay this is what we have," he began. "Every road leading out of the county has already been shut down. We have state police running ID checks into and out of both Redmond and Bend. What that leaves us with is all of this," he circled a hand over the map. "We've got rural paved roads spread out all over, and that's not including the mountain passages."

"Our guy isn't local," Andrews continued. "We don't think he would head into the mountains. There's limited coverage up there for someone who isn't familiar with the terrain. The problem is our guy isn't exactly sane either."

"We've a team up there already," Andy said. "I don't believe that our suspect is going to head into the mountains with his package, not as long as he's keeping him drugged. In each of the previous abductions he kept his victims heavily sedated until he was ready to make his next move." He reached out and tapped the map. "He's not going to go south. Jenks is already wanted in California and Nevada, and as long as we didn't know who he was, he could move back and forth without a problem."

"How do you know?" Deputy Callan looked at him. "If it's the least obvious choice, maybe that's exactly what he'll do."

"That's exactly why we'll be watching those state lines," Andy pointed out. "Jenks has been doing this long enough that he has to have some idea how to predict police behavior. How else did he grab a cop's kid and drive across country with her without anyone being the wiser? Now he's got another one." Andy looked hard at Callan. "I don't know about Oregon, but we take that pretty seriously in California. Every cop in the state will be watching for him. It's not a good place to be. Right now, his plan has got to be to get out of sight. But this nut job hasn't hit his end game yet. We don't think it was only about getting Rusty Beck. His pattern is to take down young boys _and_ their mothers."

"Right now, the mother is at the hospital and she's not leaving." Deputy Andrews leaned his hip against the hood of the truck. "We've got deputies on that floor, keeping an eye on her, and her family. That's why I think he's not going very far."

"I agree." Andy leaned both hands against the truck and scowled at the map. "Usually the idea would be to get the hell out of the state, kill his victim, and then get the hell out of the country for a while. Disappear until the heat dies off, then come back and start again. I don't think that's going to happen this time. He spent too long planning. This dirtbag has been up here for months just scouting the area. I think he's got a place, we just have to find it."

"Which is why we are running any of his known aliases through real estate acquisitions," Walker said. "Right now all we've got is Howard Jenkins and Henry Jenks. We're also running the other names you gave us. If he rented or bought anything under Weller or Mills we'll find it."

When his phone rang Deputy Andrews turned away from the group. Since it was a manhunt the county had gone down on radio silence. The only calls being dispatched across their radios were those for the fire department and EMS. All chatter from the local police departments in Bend and Redmond had been stopped. Calls were being routed through dispatch by cell phone. It was an inconvenience, but if suspects had access to a police scanner it cut down on the amount of information that got leaked.

Andrews held up a hand as the noise around him continued. He spoke quickly and within just moments the call was disconnected. "Okay, we've got a car matching the description of our suspect's traveling southwest on Cline Falls Road. The officer didn't get a look at the license plate, but if the suspect spotted one of our road checks he could have cut across rural routes to access it without being noticed." Andrews walked back over and his finger traced the line on the map that marked the road. "Cline Falls will take him to highway 20 or 97 before he gets to Bend, or he could circle around the city and use the rural roads and smaller residential roads to bypass our checkpoints around Bend. He could hit the 20 on the other side of the city and head east into Idaho."

Andy considered it for only a moment before pushing back from the truck. "Let's cut him off before he has the chance. Get your bird in the air; let's find out if this guy is still on the road."

"We don't have confirmation on the license plate," Walker reminded him. "It might not be our guy."

"Yeah," Andy couldn't deny that. "I don't believe in coincidences. It's not worth taking the chance and losing him."

Deputy Andrews weighed their options for a moment. He looked over at Norris, the state trooper who has been with them on the Matthews case since the start. When the other man nodded, Andrews pushed away from the truck. "Alright, let's go. Lieutenant, you're with me." He took out his phone to call out the plan to dispatch so it could be relayed to those not with them at the fairground.

Andy considered the cell phone in his hand for a moment. He had promised Sharon an update, but what he had was still precious little, and he didn't want to get her hopes up; or her fear. He decided that he could forego the call for now, at least until he had more to report. For now, and because he knew she would ask and he did not want to lie to her, Andy called Julio instead. "Don't tell the Captain it's me," he said, once the other man had answered. "How are things there?"

If Julio thought it odd that the Lieutenant was prefacing his call with that, he said nothing on the matter. Instead, he glanced up and down the hall and made sure she was nowhere nearby before answering. "The kid's status got upgraded to stable, but guarded," he reported immediately. "Ricky is still in surgery, but it looks like they've got the bleeding under control. The spleen is gone and they're just patching up the other damage. They're going to give the Captain another update when they move him into recovery. They said it might be another hour. The Lieutenant isn't awake yet," he said, "they said it could be anytime now or sometime tomorrow. He's still stable."

"Good," Andy replied. It was better than any of the alternatives. "We're getting ready to move. We think we have a location on the guy. I don't want the Captain to know yet. It might not be our guy, and he may not have Rusty with him anymore."

"Okay." Julio understood why he wouldn't tell her. She would insist on joining him. "Lieutenant, I've got eyes on the Captain. It's not a problem. Go find Rusty."

Andy was hoping that he would say that. He wasn't comfortable asking. He was glad that it went without saying. "That's kind of the plan," he said instead. "I'll check in again when I know something. Keep me posted on the other thing."

"I will." Julio said. "I'll send you a text as soon as the Lieutenant wakes up, or Ricky comes out of surgery."

"Yeah," Andy sighed. "Thanks Julio." He hung up and joined Deputy Andrews at his SUV. "Let's go."

They headed west of town, with the county vehicles and state police spreading out and taking different routes to the location where the car had been spotted. Although it was well after nightfall, they had an almost full moon in the sky above. It was as much an advantage as it was not; they would easily spot the car, but their suspect would spot them too. Overhead the helicopter circled while a spotter tried to identify the car.

After more than a half an hour of driving, it was not the helicopter but a Redmond City police officer, Brad Thompson, who found the car. He drove past the location twice, and recalled an old farm house that was previously for sale, but now had an occupant. He couldn't say when exactly the property had changed hands, but it sat far enough back from the road that it would have been missed during the day. He only decided to check it out because lights glowed from windows at the back of the house.

He neared the house at a slow speed and cut his headlights, using the moon above to guide him down the narrow country lane. Officer Thompson got nearer to the farm house on foot and was careful to stick to the shadows of the many trees that lined the lane and surrounded the property. It was too dark for the camera on his phone to capture the license plate, but with his binoculars he got a good look at it. He scribbled the number onto the back of his hand with a pen before he beat a hasty retreat back to his car.

Thompson didn't want to risk being seen, so he backed his car back down the lane and out onto the road. He drove a quarter of a mile away from the turn off, but remained near enough that he would be able to see if the car left. Then he called in the license plate and waited for back up to join him.

Over the course of the next twenty minutes the sheriff's deputies and state police arrived. They converged at the end of the road, where the house could be watched, but they would not be seen. Although the house was largely surrounded by trees there was much of the yard that stood empty. There was an old barn, but their chances of being seen as they closed in on the house were pretty high. They had confirmation on the car, and it was a chance they were going to have to take.

So that their vehicles wouldn't be heard or seen they crept up on the house on foot. They kept to the shadows as much as possible and hoped that their suspect's arrogance would work to their advantage, that he would expect not to have been found. Once they reached the house they were able to peer in through the windows. Lights still burned brightly at the back of the house; they illuminated the back yard, so the officers kept to the side and front of the house. While they waited for everyone to get into position, Andy hunkered down in the shadows of the porch. So far, their suspect had not been seen inside the house, but the car was parked in the yard and left empty.

They had identified three entrances. There was a front door, the back door, and a side utility entrance. Officers gathered at each one. On a count of three, each door was kicked in and deputies poured into the residence.

Andy kicked in the back door himself and then stood to the side as two deputies rushed into the kitchen. He followed them inside, gun drawn, and after the kitchen was cleared he walked toward a hall that led to the front of the house. There were yells throughout the house as the deputies identified themselves. A scuffle drew his attention on the east side of the dwelling. He made his way across what might have been a sitting room, save the sparse furnishings throughout the house. There was a television, chair and table but little else. Andy walked through another empty room and into a narrow hall where several of the deputies had gathered. He recognized Deputy Walker's voice immediately, yelling at someone to drop their weapon.

"Put it down!"

"Get those hands where we can see them, Jenks."

As Andy shouldered through the crowd he realized why Jenks's hands had not yet been raised. He had a hostage. He was using a groggy, barely conscious Rusty as a human shield. There was a large knife held to the boy's throat. It looked like he was fond of blades, much as his apprentice had been. Andy's teeth ground together. "Henry Jenks," his voice rumbled quietly, the tones dipping toward fury. "Drop the knife and put your hands up. Let the boy go. It's over."

He had a hand beneath Rusty's chin. He drew it up as he leveled the knife against his skin. "It'll never be over," he said. "Once your boy is dead, you'll keep thinking about it. Nothing else will ever matter."

There was madness in Jenks's eyes. It was a look that Andy had seen a number of times over the years. It was a certainty that while he might die, he was perfectly happy taking his victim with him. Andy's stomach twisted into a tight, painful knot. He was doubly glad that Sharon hadn't come with them. She had become a solid partner, and was a hell of an officer to have at your back, but she was a mother first. This was not a moment that she should witness. He stared back at the man, eyes dropping for just a moment to the knife that gleamed sickly against Rusty's pale skin. Beneath the blade a single, thin droplet of blood rolled slowly downward. He looked behind Jenks and found Deputy Andrews standing quietly, waiting. Deputy Callan was beside him. Andy stared at both men for a moment before he let his gaze move back to Jenks.

The man didn't flinch. The grip he had on Rusty and the knife was a strong one. He wasn't giving up, and he was prepared for what might come next. He looked as though he might happily greet it. Anxiety churned in Andy's stomach. His gaze moved to the kid. He hoped that Rusty would look at him. The kid knew how to protect himself; he had done it before, living the life he had on the streets. In the few years since he'd been with them, been with Sharon, they had expanded on his self defense. Andy knew that Julio had taught him a few things, whether Sharon agreed with the idea or not; he knew that she was aware of it, even if she had never commented on it. Rusty was too out of it to understand what he was trying to convey to him. His heavily lidded eyes were looking around the dimly lit hall. His head was trying to droop, and that was just putting more pressure on the knife that was at his throat. Andy's teeth ground together. His grip on his gun tightened.

There seemed, really, to be only the one choice. He was calculating the risks and weighing his odds. He wasn't a betting man, but he would always put money on Sharon. If she were here he had to think that she would agree. He had to believe that she would understand. He hoped that she would. He promised when this thing with them began that he would try like hell to protect her heart. She had been hurt before. The thing was, even before they decided to take _that_ step in their relationship, he got to know all too well that her kids were her heart. Losing one of them would break her. It was not Sharon, however, that he needed to be thinking about in that moment. Andy pushed his thoughts aside and drew a breath. He hoped to calm the pounding of his own heart, quiet the echo of it in his ears. They were running out of time. As seconds ticked by, he made the only decision that he could feel good about.

"You're right," Andy said quietly. "Nothing else will matter. His mother will always wonder, and she will always grieve, and she will blame herself and all of us until the day she dies. But you'll still be dead." Andy barely had a moment to draw another breath as the muscles of his back and arms clenched, almost painfully. His jaw ticked. _Forgive me_, he thought, and squeezed off two shots in quick succession.

**MCMCMCMCMCMC**

When he was out of surgery Ricky was moved to the ICU. It was precautionary given the nature of his injuries and how much blood he had lost. He was being watched closely, but his surgeon believed that his prognosis was good. Sharon was careful of the wires and tubes that connected him to the various machines around his bed as she eased onto the bed alongside him. She had never seen her boy looking so pale or quiet. Moisture stung her eyes as she reached up and smoothed down the wild locks of hair that covered his brow. "You need another haircut," She said quietly, and let the backs of her fingers stroke the side of his scruffy face.

"He's always in need of a haircut." Jack sat in a chair on the other side of Ricky's bed. He leaned forward and let his elbows rest on his knees. "I remember we'd get it cut, and it seemed like a week later it was in his eyes again."

Sharon hummed quietly. She swallowed back the words she could have said; that by the time Ricky was three Jack had scarcely been around, so how could he know? By the time he was five, Jack was out of the picture almost entirely. Instead she just smiled a small, sad smile and kept her gaze on her son. "When he was six," she said quietly, "he had the worst case of tonsillitis that I had ever seen. I thought he would need his tonsils removed, it seemed like he was always sick that year. It got better. Then when he was nine he got sick on me again; appendicitis that time. He was only in the hospital for a few days, but it was probably the scariest thing I had ever been through; at least until the night that he and Danny wrecked my car."

None of them were moments that he had been present for. Jack bowed his head and stared at the floor in front of him. There was nothing that he could say to that. His hands clasped together where they hung between his knees. "He's going to be okay," he said quietly. "Sharon, it's…" Jack sighed. "Ricky is going to be alright."

She closed her eyes for a moment. Emotion threatened to close her throat. Sharon swallowed hard. "I've spent so much time focused on Rusty lately; I don't think it ever occurred to me that anything could happen to Ricky or Emily."

"Don't do that." She always blamed herself. Jack stood up with a sigh. He ran a hand through his hair as he walked around the bed. "Look, Sharon, no one saw this coming. There's no way that you could have seen it either. When Rusty had his stalker you kept Emily and Ricky out of LA, and they were fine. When Stroh escaped, there was no reason to believe that he'd go after either of them. It was always Rusty that he wanted. No one could have predicted some weirdo would go on a revenge spree because of that whack job your people got rid of last year."

Sharon sat up as he approached. Her hand slid down Ricky's arm to circle his wrist. She concentrated on the feel of his pulse beneath her fingers, solid and strong. "Intellectually I know that," she admitted quietly, "but I feel like I should have protected all three of them better."

"Sharon…" Jack reached out and pushed her hair back from her face. When she looked up at him, eyes bright and moist, his chest clenched. "Remember when he was two? He fell off the porch and busted his lip. You blamed yourself for that too. Or how about that time Emily rolled off the sofa when she was barely seven months old? The first time that she fell off her bike and I freaked out, what did _you_ tell me?" He might not have had many memories of his kids when they were little, but those that he had were important. He'd had some milestones with them; they were just precious few and far between. "You said that kids fall down and they get up again. There were going to be skinned knees and maybe some broken bones; missed curfews, bruised hearts, and they would drive us crazy before they were grown."

"Hm." She turned her face into his hand when his fingers skirted the curve of her cheek. "I remember," she whispered. Sharon wrapped her hand around his wrist. "There was certainly all of that. Broken bones and missed curfews, even a few broken hearts along the way. They both wanted to do, and see, and be so much." Her eyes burned. Sharon looked up at him as the tears spilled over. "I'm glad you're here."

That surprised him. He had gotten used to her shutting down and pushing him away. For so long she had barely tolerated his presence in her life. "Yeah?"

"Of course." She rolled her eyes at him. "Jack, I didn't have these kids by myself. They need you too. They always did."

He watched her swipe at a tear. It was a useless endeavor; there were others to take its place. Jack drew her up and pulled her close. "I know." He was a bastard, a poor excuse for a father and an even worse husband. "I never wanted a drink as bad as I do right now," he admitted.

"But you're not looking for one," she whispered. Her arms wrapped around him. He was no longer in her heart but she would always care about him, and they would always be connected. "That has to count for something, Jack. You're here. You're trying. That's all that any of us ever wanted."

He held her loosely, for just a moment. Jack wasn't sure that it was possible for a heart to break more than once. He'd brought this on himself, though, and there was nothing to be done for it. He gathered her closer and turned his face into her hair. "I'm sorry, honey," in a voice so soft it was barely a whisper.

"I know," she murmured. "I believe you." For the first time she did, and thought there might be a glimmer of hope. Sharon knew better than most that he could slip, that he could fail, but for once when they had needed him, he hadn't. That was something worth holding on to, for Ricky and Emily if not for herself.

"Sharon."

A familiar voice and the sound of a throat clearing near the door drew their attention. They leaned back from one another and in those first seconds Jack watched her eyes light in a way that they hadn't for him, not in a very long time. It only lasted a moment, then they clouded again as fear and worry filled them. He let go of her and took a step back. "Go on," he said. "I'll stay with Ricky."

She glanced up at him and nodded. Sharon gave his arm a squeeze before she drew away. The look in Andy's eyes was almost indecipherable. She leaned over Ricky and pressed a kiss to his brow. A quiet, "I love you," accompanied it before she let herself be drawn from his room.

Andy shoved his hands into his pockets while he waited. He stepped away from the door, further into the hall and drew a deep breath. For a moment he wanted to plant his fist in Jack's face, but he was reminded of the hell that she had been through these past couple of days; first with Emily, and then with Ricky and Rusty. He stamped down on the instant jealousy, especially when she looked at him. When she joined him in the hall, he just jerked his head toward the double doors at the end of it. The ICU only let in two visitors at a time per patient, and he was lucky to have gotten this far; flashing his badge had done the job. "Got you something," he said quietly.

Sharon followed his gaze. A familiar figure stood near the closed double doors. His hair was askew, his arm was in a sling, and he had a small bandage on the left side of his neck, but he was standing, and he was there. Sharon's hands covered her mouth. Part of her had not believed that she would see him again, at least not alive. It was the cynical part that had seen too much in her long years as a police officer. "_Rusty_."

He was leaning against the wall. His head still ached. The doctors in the ER told him he would feel like that for a while; it was a bit like having a hangover from the sedative he had been given by his abductor. Aside from that, his arm hurt where a bullet had grazed his bicep. It wasn't deep and had only needed a few stitches, but it hurt like crazy. They hadn't wanted to give him any painkillers, not with the sedative still in his system. The doctor had given him a prescription for them, though, and he could take some in a couple of hours. The cut on his neck was hardly there at all, and as soon as he was away from the hospital the bandage would be gone. For now, Rusty figured he was pretty damned lucky.

He pushed away from the wall and took a step toward her. He was the one who had insisted that they not call Sharon until he was finished in the ER. He was fine, and hadn't wanted to pull her away from Ricky unnecessarily. Despite all of that though, there was still one question on his mind. "Julio said that Ricky is probably going to be okay?"

A sound, very near a sob, was all that she managed as she strode toward him. Sharon pulled Rusty close and held on tightly. "I was afraid I'd never see you again," she whispered.

Rusty hadn't realized just how badly he wanted it, or needed it, until she was holding him. He wrapped his good arm around her and held on tightly. He didn't even care when his injured arm began to throb from being trapped between them. "Me too." He felt a tremor run through him, or maybe it was her. It was really hard to tell at that point. "He tried to save me," Rusty whispered. "He didn't even think about it. Just like you."

Sharon drew back just a bit and looked at him. She reached up and swept his bangs off his brow. "Of course he did," she said. "You're his little brother." She offered a watery smile. "You're part of this family, Rusty. A very big part."

"Yeah." Rusty chewed on the inside of his lip. "Think I'm finally getting that, Mom."

She thought that she felt something inside of her break, just a little bit, at the sheepish way that he looked at her as he said it. He tried to smile at her; it was that goofy half-grin that he would flash at her when he was teasing, but there was a glimmer of emotion in his gaze that belied any teasing use of the title. This time he had meant it. Sharon hummed quietly and swallowed back the sudden surge of tears. She smiled at him instead. "Good." To satisfy herself that he was truly okay and in one piece she let her eyes sweep over him. Her fingers lightly touched the bandage on his neck, and then the one wrapped around his bicep. Sharon drew a thin, shuddering breath. "What happened?"

"A deranged lunatic tried to kill me." Rusty shrugged. "Saving me wasn't exactly text book."

"Rusty was grazed when I shot Jenks." Andy wasn't going to hide it from her, he'd never intended to, but he would give the kid points for trying to delay the inevitable. He had remained nearby, but moved closer now. "It was unavoidable. He was prepared to die and take Rusty with him." Andy waved a hand at Rusty's neck. "He had a knife to the kid's neck, and we didn't have a lot of time to debate or negotiate. I took the shot," he said, rather matter-of-factly.

Sharon looked up at him and blinked. She shook her head. "I think I'm confused. How did you find him?" She felt as if a big part of the story had been skipped.

Andy looked up and down the hall. "Come on," He nodded toward the doors. "Let's go sit down and I'll tell you everything."

Rusty stepped aside. "I want to see Ricky. Is that okay?"

Sharon looked between the two. She wasn't ready to let him go, but she also wanted her questions answered. She sighed quietly and nodded. "I think that would just fine." She kept an arm around Rusty as she walked him back to Ricky's room. She gazed inside and found Jack back in the chair he previously occupied. "Jack will keep you company," she said, with a pointed look directed at her ex-husband.

"Hey." A surprised look lit his features when he spotted Rusty. He pushed it aside quickly. "Come on in, Rusty my friend. There's plenty of room." He looked at his ex-wife and nodded once. He'd keep an eye on the boy.

She drew away with no small amount of hesitation. It was hard, walking away from Rusty when she only just had him back. Sharon shook her hair back and wiped at her cheeks as she rejoined Andy. She let him usher her through the double doors and a short distance down the hall before she turned. "What happened?"

Andy ran a hand over face. "One of the local cops found the car. We tracked them down to an old farm house west of town. Rusty was barely coming out of sedation. Jenks was using him as a shield. I had to make a call," he told her. "I didn't trust anyone else to do it. Jenks is dead, Rusty isn't. I think I'll call it a win." He shrugged. "Rusty didn't want you to know until we got done down in the ER. He's fine, Sharon. Four stitches, and he's still a little groggy from the sedative he was given. They're running his blood work to find out exactly what it was. We'll compare it to what Emily and Provenza were given. I'm sure it will be the same thing. Locals are still out at the house. I came with Rusty in the ambulance."

She was trying very hard to process what he was telling her. Sharon held up a hand before he could continue. "_You_ shot my son?"

He winced but didn't look away from her. "Yeah. I shot Rusty. I figured it was better than the alternative, and better me than some country deputy that practices on beer cans." Andy ran a hand through his hair again. "Look, Sharon…"

She took a step forward and shook her head. "You found him," she said and decided to concentrate on that.

"Yeah." Andy exhaled. "Hell of a thing. I was starting to wonder if we would. We didn't know if he was in the house. I was afraid someone would end up killing the psycho and we'd never find Rusty."

"Hm." Her eyes closed. They'd found him, though, and that was what mattered. "I'm going to have other questions."

"I know." Andy was sure he'd get the riot act.

"I'm going to be mad at you," she told him.

"Yep." He was ready for that.

"I might even yell," she warned.

"God, I hope so." He wanted to be yelled at after that. He'd had a couple of bad moments while the paramedics worked on Rusty when he thought he might be sick. It was only a flesh wound, but a wound just the same.

"_Andy_." She stepped forward and reached for him. Sharon pressed her face into his neck. His arms closed around her and she inhaled deeply. "Right now I'm just grateful that he's alive. Thank you."

He turned his face into her hair. "I was doing my job," he said. "A wounded hostage is better than a dead one. Jenks was going to kill him. If he couldn't get you, he'd destroy you, and losing one of your kids would tear you apart. It was a risk," he acknowledged. "But I would do it again."

"Yes." She never doubted his resolve when it came to the lives that they protected. "He's here," she told him, "and I'm going to hold on to that. Right now I don't care how you brought him back to me, just that you did."

He made a sound that was more than a grunt, almost a hum. Andy tipped her head back and searched her face. Her eyes were wet, and the makeup she had worn earlier was long gone. She was still worried, and god knew she was exhausted. To him she was still beautiful. His lips touched hers in a light, almost chaste kiss. "Go sit with your boys. I'm going to go check on Provenza."

She nodded quietly. She was a little reluctant to let him go, but she did. "You'll let me know when he wakes up?"

Andy snorted quietly. "You'll probably hear the complaining all the way down here, but I'll make sure that you know the minute he opens his eyes."

A small smile curved her lips upward. Her fingertips brushed his jaw before she pulled away. "I can't wait," she said, and meant it. Even if he called them _idiots _it would be worth it. Sharon drew a breath as she turned away. She walked slowly back into the ICU. When she neared Ricky's room she swept a hand over her face and then combed her fingers through her hair. Inside she found Rusty curled in one of the only two chairs that occupied the room. His head was propped in his hand and he seemed to be fast asleep. She smiled as she joined him. Her hand swept over his hair again. He muttered but barely moved.

Jack pushed out of the other chair. "I'll go," he told her. "Ricky is going to be out of it for a while. I can come back after he wakes up." He looked at her and shrugged. "I can let Emily know what's going on."

She smiled gratefully. "You don't have to leave, I'm sure we can convince the staff to let you both stay."

"Maybe," he said. "Hell, with the business we're giving them they should give us a discount." Jack shook his head. "It's not a problem. I told Emily I would keep her updated anyway. I'll go handle that, and you can sit with the boys."

Her face softened into a warm smile. "Thank you, Jack."

"Yeah." He sighed, and not knowing what else to say, he shoved his hands into his pockets and left the room. Emily's room was on a different floor. Jack would put money on Sharon wearing herself out going back and forth, and made a mental note to find out when his daughter could be released. If she was resting comfortably at the ranch, where her grandmother or one of the aunts could take care of her, Sharon would worry less. Jack shook his head at himself. Too little, too late, but he could do that much at least.

When he reached the elevators he drew to a stop. His brows lifted in surprise to find Flynn leaning against the wall, head tipped back, eyes closed. Jack studied him for a moment. He sighed and swore quietly. He stopped in front of him, hands still in his pockets. "Not much in the way of meetings around here," he had already checked. There was a Rec Center that offered one, but it was once a week and the next one was days away. "The nurses' station down on three makes a hell of a cup of coffee, and by _hell_, I mean so strong you won't have the stomach to drink anything else for a while."

"Really." Andy lifted his head and stared at the other man. His eyes narrowed. There was a shared understanding there. Much as he didn't like him, Jack was probably the only one who would know what was going through his head at the moment. Not that he really _wanted_ a drink, not like he would have a decade ago. He was tired, and his shoulders ached. The temptation was there. For both of them it seemed. Andy thought about it for a moment. He glanced back toward the ICU before he shoved away from the wall. If there was nothing else that he could do for them at the moment, this would be enough. "Lead the way."

Jack stepped over and hit the button for the elevator. His head tilted while they waited for it. "Did you really shoot the kid?"

His teeth ground together. Andy called on every ounce of patience that he had. Still his lip curled and his eyes flashed. "Jack…"

He held up his hands. "I was just going to say… ballsy move."

Andy snorted. He stepped into the elevator when it opened. "More like scared as shit move," he admitted. "I don't want to talk about it." He kept reminding himself that it was just a graze, and that if Rusty hadn't flinched at the sound of the shot, he might not have hit him at all. It could have been worse though, a lot worse, but a risk worth taking. He would never believe otherwise, and like he'd told Sharon, he would do it again.

"Sure." Jack joined him in the elevator. He rocked back on his heels. "How about the part where you're sleeping with my wife?"

Andy growled as the doors shut. "Ex-wife," he said pointedly "The deputies had to take my service weapon, but I've still got the backup. Just in case you wanted to ask anymore stupid questions."

"Fair enough." Jack lifted his gaze to the digital counter over the elevator doors. "So how about those Dodgers this year…"

His jaw clenched. "Shut up, Jack."

**-TBC-**


	21. Chapter 21

**Home and Hearts Aflame**

**by Kadi  
Rated: T**

**Disclaimer: **I do love this sandbox, but sadly it is not mine.

* * *

**Chapter 21**

Provenza woke up near dawn. It was just as well. By that time Patrice had arrived. She was, unfortunately, not able to get a flight in to Redmond and only managed to fly as far north as Redding, California. She had driven the rest of the way. They'd had time to bring her up to speed on all of the happenings and assure her that he was fine, just sleeping off the sedation.

He woke up with a groan and a hell of a headache. He felt like he had been on a three day bender, the likes of which he hadn't experienced since turning thirty and getting much too old and mature for those sorts of things. Or maybe it was forty. Who the hell could remember at his age. The point was, his head hurt like hell and he was pissed about it.

He had two immediate questions. "Where the hell am I? What the hell happened?"

While Patrice was just happy that he was awake, Andy was left to fill in all of the blanks. Provenza stopped him at the point where he mentioned being found in the stable of his Captain's family's rural, Oregon ranch.

"You're telling me that I'm in Podunk, Oregon?" Provenza waved his hand at his partner, outrage written across his face, as if the echo of his ever rising voice off the walls of his hospital room was not proof enough that he was upset.

Andy shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. "Well, yeah. That's where we found you. So, after that—"

Provenza cut him off again. "And you just let them _keep_ me here?"

Patrice reached over and gathered one of his hands in both of hers. "Now Louie," she said calmly, "you weren't conscious."

"So?" He waved his other hand and then pointed a finger at his partner. "Care flight. Air ambulance. Greyhound bus. Ever heard of those?" His eyes narrowed. He scowled at the other man. "You call yourself my partner. Of all the times that I have bailed you out of trouble, been there for you, _covered_ for you, and you let me stay in some piddly little country hospital in the middle of nowhere, are you trying to kill me?"

Sharon would have knocked when she arrived, but she didn't think that she would be heard. She was on her way back from seeing Emily, and thought to check on the Lieutenant before returning to the ICU. She moved into the room, mouth twitching toward a smile and eyes wide. She stepped up alongside Andy and Julio and clasped her hands in front of her. "When you said that I would hear him, I genuinely believed that you were joking."

"Nope." Andy slanted a look down at her. "I meant it." He arched a brow at her. "Warms the heart, doesn't it?"

Julio nudged Flynn with his elbow. "Notice how he doesn't make _her_ call him Lieutenant."

Sharon pressed her lips tightly together, but her shoulders shook with barely suppressed laughter. She leaned forward and cast a look at him from over the rims of her glasses. When the Detective just shrugged at her, but looked unapologetic, Sharon rolled her eyes. "I suppose then that I can assume that he is going to be just fine?"

"Fine!" Provenza turned his outraged gaze on her. "Who here is _fine_?" He pointed at his Captain. "You did this," he decided. "You lured me up here to country bumpkin hell. You're trying to get rid of me!"

"Yep." Andy drawled. "He's fine. He's his usual, grumpy self. Frankly, I feel relieved knowing that the many very strong sedatives he was pumped full of had no lasting effects on his personality or senility."

"Hm." Sharon cleared her throat. Her head tilted. She blinked several times. Her lips were pressed tightly together but this time she couldn't hold back the peals of laughter that trembled through her. She turned and pressed her face into Andy's shoulder. "Oh god."

"What happened? Is she okay?" Rusty had come looking for Sharon when she hadn't joined him at the elevator after leaving Emily's room. He frowned. "Wait, is she _laughing_?" He was worried that she was crying. When she had to wrap her arm around Andy's and lean into him, Rusty's eyes widened. "Oh my god. You broke her!"

"What the hell happened to you?" Provenza scowled at the boy. The last time he had seen Rusty he was perfectly okay. Now he was injured, pale, and there were dark circles under his eyes. "How the hell long was I out?"

Rusty blinked at him. Then he looked down and remembered that with the sling and the bandage on his neck he probably looked pretty bad. "Oh, that." He shrugged. His arm was hurting again. He thought maybe it had been long enough that he could take the painkillers they had given him in the ER. He would ask Sharon before he did it, he thought. "Flynn shot me."

"_What_?" Provenza's eyes went wide.

Andy sighed as he looked heavenward. "For the rest of my life, that is the only part that anyone is ever going to remember."

Provenza ran a hand over his face. "Eeh gods! What the hell kind of trouble did you people get into while I was out?"

Patrice leaned over and gave his hand a gentle pat. "Louie, they've had a difficult couple of days," she said quietly. There was sympathy in her gaze when she looked at the Captain. When she looked at Provenza again, there was sadness in her eyes too. "A lot of things happened after you were found."

They all sobered at that, including Sharon who straightened. She looked at the Lieutenant with genuine relief that he was back among them. "I'm glad to see that you're feeling better," she told him. "If you'll excuse me, I need to get back upstairs." Her gaze drifted to Patrice. "If you need anything," she reminded her, "please let me know."

"Don't worry about me," Patrice said. "I can find my way around. You'll let me know when he wakes up?" She asked; there was compassion in her gaze as she mentioned Ricky, who remained unconscious.

"I will," Sharon's face softened and the worry returned.

As Sharon left the room Andy backed away from the bed. "I'm going with her. You behave," he told his partner. "The nurses here are big, hairy, and they like me." He smirked. "I'll order you a sponge bath."

"What you can order me," Provenza snarked at him, "is a damned explanation! Flynn!" His eyes narrowed as his partner left the room. "Flynn!" He huffed. "Damned lovesick fool."

Patrice tutted quietly at him. "No," she said. "He needs to go with her. She needs looking after." The boy, Rusty, stayed in the room. She smiled gently as he walked over and took a seat on the other side of the bed. "You'll get your explanation," She said, "but it's a long story, and you need to stay quiet for it."

Provenza sank down in the bed. His face settled into something that might have been considered a pout. "Fine," he grumbled. "Just as long as someone tells me what is going on around here."

Julio moved to the foot of the bed. He exchanged a look with Rusty, and then between the two of them, they picked up the story from the point where the Lieutenant had been found. What Rusty couldn't fill in, because he had been unconscious and held by Jenks, Julio managed to explain. The rest of it, from the rescue to arriving at the hospital was told by Rusty.

"We're just waiting for Ricky to wake up now," Rusty concluded. "The doctors say that there's every reason to believe he will be okay. He will be in ICU until that happens, at least."

"They don't really have an FID up here," Julio said. "We're waiting for the State Police to clear Flynn on the shooting. That shouldn't be a problem, it was a clean shot. The County had authorized him to help in the investigation and search. The locals are processing all of the evidence from the crime scene at the O'Dwyer ranch and at the farmhouse that Jenks was staying in. They're going to copy us on everything so that we can close the Stroh murder investigation."

"They found an old truck," Rusty said, "at the farmhouse. It was in the barn. It's one of those older ones, with the cover thing on the back."

"Camper." Julio said. "It looks like that's what he used to transport the Captain's daughter across country, and how he got you out of California. We also think he might have moved Stroh's body in it. Tao is jumping up and down to come up here, but Taylor can't spare anymore of us. He's already got half the division up here with this thing."

Patrice asked the obvious question, because she knew that neither of the other two men would. "Rusty, how is your mother holding up? She looks exhausted."

His eyes moved around the room. He looked at the other two men and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. This was not something that they did. They just didn't talk about Sharon or her feelings, or how she was handling things. Okay, sometimes he did that with Lieutenant Provenza, but that was usually just between them, and it wasn't always comfortable either. Rusty rubbed the hand of his uninjured arm against the leg of his jeans. "I'm not really sure." He shrugged. "I know she's tired, and she's worried about Ricky. She's worried about all of us, but I just don't _know_." He looked helplessly from Julio to Provenza. "It's never been like this before. Most of the time Sharon is pretty strong, at least on the outside. I gave her all kinds of crap when I first moved in with her, and she took it. I mean, I was _really_ horrible sometimes, and she just took it. Then there were the letters from Wade Weller, and Phillip Stroh… I mean, she just handled all of it. I could tell that she was tired, sometimes, or worried, but it's never been like _this_. I feel like she wants us to think that she's okay, but she's really not."

"Of course she's not okay." Provenza sighed. He ran a hand over his face again and shifted in the bed. "In less than a week she's had all three of her kids kidnapped, stabbed, shot, or all three."

"I'm just…" Rusty sighed. "I'm just afraid that she's going to hit a wall, you know? And then she's going to crash really hard."

"You might be right, Rusty." Provenza shook his head. "I don't know that there's anything we can do to stop that." He paused for a moment and looked at the others. "Doesn't mean we aren't going to try. Dammit," he grumbled. "Okay, this is what you do. You let Flynn worry about the Captain, Julio will keep an eye on Rusty, and your job," he told Rusty, "is to talk to your sister. She's been through something, god knows, but for just a little while, get her to lean on the boyfriend… or god help us, her father."

Julio's brows rose. He had no problem with any of that. "What are you going to do, sir?"

"I'm going to get someone to find me some pants," Provenza complained, "so that I can get the hell out of this place!"

**MCMCMCMCMCMC**

Andy stood behind Sharon while they waited for the elevator to arrive. His hands rested against her shoulders; they gently kneaded muscles that were tight with tension and fatigue. He drew her back against his chest. When she sighed and leaned into him, his lips brushed the back of her head. "Better?"

"Hm." She hummed quietly. "If you keep that up, I'm going to fall asleep right here." She tipped her head back against his shoulder and to the side, so that her forehead was resting against the curve of his jaw. Her body ached with exhaustion, but she couldn't yet think of stopping. Sharon let her eyes close for the first time since the horror had begun in the stable and let herself melt against the solid warmth behind her. It wasn't over yet, not for her, and it wouldn't be until she could take all three of her children home, but here there was comfort.

"That might not be a bad idea." Andy slid his hands down her arms, and then wrapped her in a loose embrace. "You're running on fumes, Sharon. You aren't going to do anyone any good if you collapse. Ricky is doing okay. It's probably going to be a little while yet before he wakes up. The world isn't going to stop if you take a nap."

"It might." She shrugged away from him and tried to take a step forward. When he wouldn't let go of her, she sighed. Her voice dipped, becoming low and clipped. "Andy. I don't need to be handled."

"No," he agreed. He gathered her back against him and turned his face into her hair. His lips moved against her ear when he spoke. "You're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself and the kids. You just don't have to. Not alone, anyway. It's not just this week, sweetheart. It's been a hell of a few months, and the last few days have been the worst of it, no doubt about that. I get it. The guilt and the anger; they're both normal. You're worried as hell, and no one expects otherwise. The thing is, Sharon, even you can only take so much. We got through the letters. We took care of that situation, and we saved Rusty. _You_ saved him. Phillip Stroh escaped from custody and you did what you had to do to keep Rusty safe. No one saw this coming. No one expected it. Even when you figured out that it was Rusty, again, at the center of some psychopath's agenda, no one could anticipate what would happen. You've got three kids and all of them were touched by this hell... but you could've locked them all in a room and they still would've been touched by it. The physical hurts will heal. The rest is going to take a little while, but that was going to be true all along. The thing is you won't be able to help them when it actually counts if you don't help yourself first."

He was right. Intellectually, Sharon knew that he was correct in everything that he said. Perhaps it was her own stubbornness, but she remained rigid in his embrace. Her eyes closed. "I'm fine," she stated, trying to sound clipped and emotionless, but failing. She heard the waver in her own voice.

"Yeah, you're batting a thousand alright." A hand splayed across her stomach, while the other rested at her hip. He nosed her hair aside and pressed his lips against her neck. "Slow down champ or you're gonna strikeout."

It had the desired effect. Sharon snorted at the goofy sports reference. A small smile tugged at her lips. She turned in his embrace and wrapped her arms around his waist. She tipped her head back to look up at him. "I am tired," she admitted. "It hurts," she said softly, "more than I want to think about. When I go there I won't be able to stop, and I can't do that now. I just…" She trailed off as her eyes closed. She drew a breath and let it out slowly. "I need Rusty to be okay, and I need Emily dancing. I need Ricky to wake up, and I need to be able to close my eyes and not see him lying there." When her eyes opened again they were bright and moist. "I can't sleep," she whispered. "Not yet."

He pushed his hands into the thick curtain of her hair. His thumbs stroked her cheeks, and then down along the curve of her jaw. Andy sighed quietly. He didn't like it. She was drawn and pale, and holding on just a little too tight. If she kept going the way that she was, he worried that she wouldn't bend… she would break. "You can't keep going indefinitely," he pointed out. "You know that."

"I do." She wrapped one of her hands around his wrist. Sharon turned her face into his hand and let her lips brush his palm. "Just until he's awake," she promised, "then you can take me home." At this point the ranch was serving as home for both of them, and that was another situation that could not continue indefinitely. Sharon didn't want to think about that either. It was going to be a while before Ricky or Emily would be up to traveling, and she couldn't fathom the thought of leaving either of them to return to Los Angeles. Then there was her team. She would have to send them home too, sooner rather than later. Sharon pushed those thoughts aside and resolved to worry about them another time.

He lowered his head. He kissed the tip of her nose, and then pressed a kiss to her lips. "If that's the best I can get," he rumbled quietly, "I guess I'm going to have to accept it." The elevator had arrived and the door had opened while they spoke. The car was gone now, so Andy reached out and hit the button again. He wrapped an arm around her, however, and continued to hold her while they waited. "You know I love you, right?"

"I know." She smiled tiredly up at him. "It's appreciated, that you want to take care of me. I don't mean to sound like it's not, and it does help, more than you know. There is just a certain way that I have to do this, and it may not be the best way, but it's all I've got." She laid her head against his shoulder with a sigh. "But if you don't mind, I might just lean right here for a little while."

"You go right ahead." He settled his hand against her lower back. "I can take it." This time when the elevator doors opened he maneuvered her inside the car, but kept his arm wrapped around her. When her head found his shoulder again, he reached up with his other hand and combed his fingers through her hair. It wasn't the sleep that she needed, but he could offer quiet comfort if nothing else.

**MCMCMCMCMCMC**

The room was dark. That wasn't the first thing that he was aware of. His first moment of wakeful awareness was the pain. Every time he inhaled it was like fire, throbbing through his middle, threatening to steal the very breath that he was trying to draw in. It was the most intense pain that he had ever felt. His hands curled inward, and his fingers tangled in the bedding beneath him. He groaned, and the sound was stilted in his dry throat. His legs shuffled on the bed. He wanted to draw them forward, to bring them close and curl inward, as though that would help the pain. His body felt heavy, however, and weak. He could barely move at all. Instead he drew a breath through his nose and clenched his teeth tightly together.

"_Fuck me_."

"Richard!" While the language astonished her, Sharon was already moving from her chair. She had been sitting there, dozing despite her attempts at the contrary. His groan had jolted her awake. She moved to the edge of his bed and sat carefully beside him. She laid a hand against his forehead and swept his hair back. "Ricky." She wrapped her other hand around his forearm and drew it against her chest. "Careful. You'll pull your stitches." There were no words for her joy, or the relief, at having him awake again. His eyes were wild, though, and he was still trying to move. "Rusty, step out and tell the nurses that he's awake."

"Sure." He was stiff as he unfolded from his chair. Rusty had been asleep until their voices had woken him. He was trading off with Jack or Andy, whoever needed into the room at the moment. Presently, Jack was with Emily and Andy had gone to sit with Provenza while Patrice got some sleep. Rusty stepped through the sliding ICU door and looked around the U-shaped ward. When he caught the nurse's attention at the center station, he hooked his thumb toward the room behind him. "Um, my brother is awake, and I don't think he's doing great."

The nurse picked up a tablet and rounded the desk. She strode quickly toward the room while calling up the patient's chart. She moved to the other side of his bed and let her eyes sweep over the monitors surrounding the bed. "Mr. Raydor, good morning. I understand you're not feeling well."

"He's in some pain," Sharon answered. "He woke up just a moment ago, and he's struggling against it."

"I see that." She made notes of his vitals in his chart. "Okay, let's take a look at the wound site. The doctor ordered morphine. We'll get that onboard in a minute." She leaned over the side of the bed and pushed down the sheet that was covering him, only far enough that she could lift the edge of his hospital gown. "The incision looks good. Okay," she replaced his gown and the blankets. "I'm going to get the morphine and we'll see what we can do about that pain." She spoke to Ricky, but looked at Sharon. He didn't seem to be registering much, at least not yet. It wasn't unexpected.

"Shh." Sharon crooned softly. She moved her hand through his hair and continued to stroke his arm, attempting to distract him. "Ricky, it's okay."

"Okay my ass," he muttered. "Shit, that hurts." He screwed his eyes shut and tried to concentrate on breathing.

Rusty hovered near the foot of the bed, trying to stay out of the way, but wanting to be nearby too. "You were worried about Flynn's mouth," he muttered.

"Hm." Sharon hummed. "I don't like it from any of you. I think we can… ignore it for the moment. I'll give him pass." She looked over her glasses at Rusty. "Don't get any ideas."

The nurse returned in short order. She injected the morphine directly into his IV. "That should start working in a few minutes. Let me know if his pain continues."

"Thank you." Sharon hardly glanced at her as she left again. While she stroked Ricky's arm, and waited for him to calm as the medication took effect, she glanced over at her youngest child again. "Rusty, call Jack and let him know that Ricky is awake."

"Dad's still here?" Ricky still had his eyes closed. He was taking thin, shallow breaths. "What happened?"

"How much do you remember?" Sharon combed his hair back from his brow again.

Ricky thought back. It was hard to focus beyond the burning in his middle. The morphine was kicking in. It was fast stuff; that much was a blessing. He could feel it in the way his head started to feel both light and heavy at the same time. "The stable. I was with Rusty. There was a guy, and then… he stabbed me, I think, and the rest is kind of foggy." Ricky's eyes opened wide. He started to sit up but dropped back with a low groan. "Shit. Goddammit."

"_Richard_!" His mother stared at him. She would be willing to allow only _so much_. She placed a hand against his chest to keep him on the bed. "Relax. Don't try to move. You've had surgery. You'll rip your stitches."

"Yeah, gathered that." Ricky drew a breath and let it out slowly. His gaze swept the room and landed on Rusty. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Rusty still had his phone in his hand. He'd opted for texting Jack. "I mean, for the most part. Except for where our mom's boyfriend shot me."

"That's…" Ricky stopped. "Wait. What?" He scowled. "Explain that?"

"Oh my god!" Sharon shot a glare at her youngest. "Would you stop telling people that! He didn't shoot you, Rusty. The bullet barely grazed your arm. You're fine." She rolled her eyes at him and looked down at Ricky again. "The man in the stable, his name was Henry Jenks. He injured you and he took Rusty. Andy and the authorities here were able to find them. During the confrontation, Mr. Jenks attempted to use Rusty as a hostage. Your brother was wounded when Andy shot the man."

"Oh." Ricky closed his eyes again. "Is that all?" He sighed. "I thought maybe the boyfriend got tired of his mouth and decided to do something about it."

"Hey." Rusty scowled at him. "That's not funny."

"Yeah, it is a bit," Ricky decided. He shifted on the bed, trying to get more comfortable, and winced. "But that's it," he asked, and cracked an eye open to glance at his mother. "They got the guy? It's over?"

"It's over," she said softly. "There are some formal details that need to be worked out with the investigation, but yes, darling, it's over." The backs of her fingers stroked his cheek. "I have been so worried about you," she whispered. "I'm so glad that you're okay."

"The word _okay_ might be subjective," Ricky grunted. "Give me a few more minutes and we'll revisit that." He forced his eyes open and looked at her. Behind her smile he could see the worry. She looked tired. "I'm fine, mom. It just hurts like hell. How bad is it?"

"Truth or current situation?" Sharon's smile faltered, it became tremulous at best. "You scared me," she said. "We almost lost you."

"Oh god, don't cry." He could take anything but that. Ricky would rather go back to the sharp burning pain than watch her cry. "Please mom, don't cry. I'm okay. Really. I promise."

She shook her head and looked away from him. She blinked furiously to stem the flow. "I know," she told him. "I'm just very tired. It's okay, honey." She rubbed his arm again.

Ricky cast a helpless look beyond her. When his brother only shrugged, he sighed. "You're still doing the crying thing." He groaned as he tugged her down beside him. "You're such a girl sometimes, mom."

"Yes." She settled in beside him with a sniffle. "I'm your mother; it's a very important requirement for the job." Sharon was careful of him, and of the wires and tubes that were connecting him to the machines around the bed. She curled her arms around one of his and sighed. "We did almost lose you," she said. "You were in very critical condition for a while. It's only been in the last few hours that they've upgraded you to stable. The doctors were able to repair the damage done by the knife, but they had to take your spleen. I'm sure that they will explain what all of that means. I'm just happy that you're going to be okay."

"So am I." Ricky closed his eyes again. "I'm really happy about that. Tickled even. It's music to my ears. Who needs a spleen anyway? It was obviously in the way. Hurts like a bitch, though." He glanced down at his mother, but he was grinning. "Last one, I promise."

"It had better be," she drawled. "You may be in the hospital, Richard William Raydor, but I will still wash your mouth out with soap."

"Yes ma'am." Ricky laid his head back. He looked at his brother again. "You really okay?"

Rusty shrugged. "Yeah. It could have been worse. On a scale of here to dead, I'll take it." He looked around as the glass, sliding door opened and Jack slipped into the room. "I'll head down and fill the others in. Sharon, my phone is almost dead, but I'll be with Flynn or Julio." She was still having issues letting him out of her sight. For now, he figured they could just handle it. It would get better, he knew. Sharon wasn't overly clingy. It was just her way of coping.

"Thank you, honey." She smiled at him. "I'll come find you in a little bit."

He paused at the door. Rusty looked back and watched as Jack moved around to the opposite side of the bed. He felt a little awkward at watching that greeting. While Jack didn't cry as Sharon had, he did grip Ricky's shoulder and seemed just as emotional. Rusty pulled the door closed behind him. He let out a breath that he hadn't realized that he was holding as he walked away from the room.

He felt a little light headed as he left the ICU. Rusty made it only as far as the small waiting room outside the ward. He sat there and lowered his head into his hands. He took several deep breaths and tried to control the flood of emotions that was sweeping through him. Maybe, he thought, Sharon and Jack weren't the only ones that were emotional.

Rusty exhaled quietly and finally straightened. Maybe, now, they could all get back to the business of getting on with their lives. He had to think that it could only get better now. What he really wanted was to get home and try to forget all of it. Although at the moment, he would just be grateful for a hot shower and a warm bed. Rusty rolled his head on his shoulders as he stood up. He'd known that families could be screwed up; his biological one was proof enough of that. He just never knew that they could be as frightening as they were wonderful.

This family thing was kind of hard, he thought. It was a lot harder than he ever anticipated it would be. Oddly enough, as scary as it was, he didn't feel like he had to run. Instead, he went to do as he'd told Sharon, and update the others. Then, he thought he might use the time they had while the parental units were distracted and see about springing Emily from her room for a little while. It was early, but he thought the cafeteria should already be open. They would grab some food and some coffee, he decided, and then see what they could do about ganging up on their mother until she agreed to go home and rest.

Rusty grinned as he stepped into the elevator. He had a better idea. They'd get the grandmother to do it. He'd already figured out that no one said no to her, and that included Sharon. He was really beginning to understand this extended family dynamic, and it wasn't all that bad at all.

**-TBC-**


	22. Chapter 22

**Home and Hearts Aflame**

**by Kadi  
Rated: T**

**Disclaimer: **I do love this sandbox, but sadly it is not mine.

* * *

**Chapter 22**

As it turned out, getting Sharon home and into bed was harder than anticipated. She stayed with Ricky until well into mid-morning, only leaving his side to allow others to visit, his grandparents for example. While she was away from him, it was decided that Emily would be released from the hospital. Sharon insisted on staying until that happened, and then only agreed to leave the hospital when her sister arrived to sit with Ricky in her absence.

It was well after noon before Sharon and Andy returned to the ranch, Emily and Sam joining them, along with Rusty. Only the intervention of her mother saw Sharon off to bed while her daughter was left in her grandmother's capable hands to get settled in. Rusty too was ushered off to bed as soon as he stepped into the house, and he at least didn't bother to protest.

By the time Sharon made it upstairs and into bed, she could no longer fault her mother's decision. Her feet were barely carrying her across the floor. She managed to toe out of her shoes before climbing onto the bed, fully clothed, and curling around a pillow. Despite her protests, she was asleep within minutes, and thankfully much too tired for the nightmarish images which had been plaguing her to return.

Andy found her like that a few minutes later. He had stopped downstairs to make phone calls and to follow up with the State Police and Sheriff's Deputies on the Jenks investigation. He had also called home and checked in with Chief Taylor and Lieutenant Tao, bringing them up to speed on what was currently happening in Oregon. They were anticipating that Provenza would be released from the hospital the following day, and Andy was sure that he would be on a flight back to Los Angeles soon after. He knew that Provenza was already fielding calls from worried family members, and only his stubborn insistence that he was fine and would be home soon kept them from descending upon him.

As to Andy's own departure, that was still up in the air. The Chief hadn't come out and asked, but he had sensed that he wanted to. Andy knew that he couldn't remain in Oregon indefinitely, despite whatever desire he might have to do just that. Provenza would need a few more days off before returning to work, and to be cleared by a departmental shrink. That meant that Flynn wasn't out of the hot seat yet, where being in charge was concerned. The only thing currently preventing him from flying back was the ongoing investigation. The State police still had to clear him for shooting Jenks. That was a matter of formality. He had a feeling that would probably happen sometime in the next forty-eight hours. That meant he expected to be on a plane and headed back to Los Angeles by mid-week. That was something that Andy was dreading. He didn't want to leave her.

Andy knew Sharon wouldn't be going anywhere, at least not until Ricky could travel. Emily was doing well, and already talking about a return to New York. Sam would need to get back soon, and she intended to go with him. They still planned to visit California in a few weeks, and Andy thought that was probably the only thing that was keeping Sharon from going a little mad at the idea of her daughter leaving her so soon after all that happened.

At the moment it was Ricky that she was most concerned with, and rightly so. Rusty had to get back, and Andy figured he would fly home with Provenza and Patrice or wait for his return later in the week. He had classes to get to, and although he had a note from his treating physician in Oregon as well as from the LA County District Attorney's office, he could not miss class indefinitely. He had exams soon; the world did not stop simply because it was full of psychopaths. Sharon wasn't keen on the idea, he knew. She wasn't ready to have Rusty out of her sight, but she wouldn't argue with his academic needs, not after all of the work he had done to get into school and how hard she had lobbied for him to go.

It was a lot for any one person to have to handle. They lived in a realistic world, however. She wanted to gather them close and keep them there, but her children had jobs, and lives, and schools to get back to. As much as she wanted to believe otherwise, they were all adults now. It would be hard on her, he knew, but Andy also couldn't help thinking that it was for the better. With only Ricky to take care of, she would be able to take care of herself too, and just maybe he would worry about her a little less.

Doubtful, but he would try.

At the moment he was more concerned with crawling into bed with her. Andy turned both of their cell phones off before stripping down to a t-shirt and his boxers. If there were any emergencies, those who might need them knew where and how to get in touch with both of them. Andy considered Sharon for a moment. She was still in the jeans and shirt that she had changed into before beginning the search for Rusty. He weighed the option of waking her before finally deciding that she would rest more comfortably if they at least got rid of the jeans.

He grinned when he rolled her and she only grunted in annoyance. She didn't wake up, even when he worked the jeans down her legs. He was certain that she tried to kick him, but he managed to get the jeans off of her and the blankets pulled over her. When he climbed into bed alongside her and slipped an arm around her waist, he chuckled quietly when she wrapped her hand around his arm and tugged him closer.

"Stubborn witch," he muttered against her ear.

"Shh!" She wriggled backward until she was tucked securely against his solid form. She let her legs tangle with his, seeking his warmth. She sighed as she got comfortable and sank completely back into slumber once more.

Sunlight was fading in hues of scarlet and gold before she stirred again. She only woke at all because she felt the bed shift. That was not an unusual sensation, but the quiet, feminine giggle that had accompanied it was out of the ordinary.

Emily leaned on one elbow as she lay diagonally across her mother's bed. She reached out and traced a single finger along the bridge of her mother's nose. When she twitched and her yes fluttered, she laughed quietly. "Are you going to sleep your life away, lazy bones?" She wrapped a lock of her mother's unruly hair around her finger and tickled the end of it across the tip of her nose.

"Tormenting your mother will not be tolerated." Sharon turned her face into her pillow with a sigh. Her body ached, from too little or too much sleep, she wasn't sure. She yawned as she stretched and finally blinked her eyes open and looked up at her daughter. "Hi."

"Hello." Emily lay down beside her. She gathered a pillow beneath her head and watched her mother. After a moment, her brows lifted. The pillow smelled enticingly of cologne and man. "So that's why you keep him," she said with a smile.

Sharon simply hummed. "Well, why do you keep yours?"

"Good point." Emily continued to smile as they lay side by side. "It's late," she said, before her mother could ask. "We've all had dinner, but we saved you a plate. I thought you might feel better if you had a shower and ate something before lying back down."

"That actually sounds wonderful," Sharon agreed. A small smile graced her lips. It had been too long since they'd had a moment alone, like this one, simply to be. She ached that it was the current circumstances which had provided it. "How's your brother?"

"Good," Emily said. "He did really well today. Aunt Evelyn came back a little while ago. She and Uncle Jake are taking Danny and going back to their house. Dad is with Ricky tonight. He was able to get some rest today, too. But the good news is," her eyes lit up as she spoke, "they needed the room in the ICU and Ricky was doing so great that they moved him. He's on the surgical floor, so we can come and go whenever, and no more limits on visitors."

Sharon's eyes closed. Relief swept through her. She almost wanted to weep with him. Instead she hummed quietly and enjoyed the moment. "That is good news," she said thickly.

"Yes." Emily's eyes sparkled. "The little goober is already complaining about wanting to come home, oh, and that you owe him brownies. He's already got grandma set to make her chicken the day he gets released. Aunt Susan has even promised to bake the rolls that he loves. He's not wasting any time trying to rack up the sympathy favors." She made a face, her nose wrinkled. "I got released from the hospital and grandma made meatloaf. It's not fair."

The whining, teasing tone was familiar. Sharon laughed. "You like your grandmother's meatloaf, so why are you complaining?"

Emily pouted at her, "Because I want brownies too."

"I see." Sharon hugged her pillow to her chest as she watched her daughter. There was a happy glimmer in her daughter's eyes. "Ask Sam to make them," she said, and flashed a saucy grin.

"Oh god no." Emily rolled onto her back with a huff. "That man is an absolute terror in the kitchen. Thank god for takeout, that's all I can say. He would have starved without me."

Sharon began to laugh. She turned her face into her pillow while her shoulders shook with it. "I have the same problem. Where did we find them?"

"I think they found us," Emily said. She glanced at her mother with a smile. It was good to see her laugh and really mean it. Her eyes seemed lighter, not nearly as dark and frightened as they had been. Emily rolled onto her side again and scooted close. "I wish you could have met him without all of this happening. Now I want to ask you if you like him, but you really didn't get to be around him. Poor Sam," she pouted a bit. "He's been so worried about making a good impression."

She thought about it for only a moment. Sharon's lips pursed. There was such a hopeful expression on her daughter's face. "Emily." She lifted her head so that she was looking down at her girl. "He flew across country at a moment's notice, with nothing but fear for you, and he's hardly left your side since he got here. Before Ricky and Rusty," she said, and had to hesitate as a shudder ran through her when she thought of how close she had come to losing her sons. "Sam was quick to offer to help, however he could. It's very obvious that he adores you." Sharon reached out and pushed a lock of dark hair behind her daughter's ear. "I like him."

"Yes?" Emily smiled brightly. She rolled onto her back again but not without taking her mother's arm and drawing her close, so that they were sharing a single pillow and snuggled together. "For the record, I like yours too."

"Thank you," Sharon said, with some amusement at having gained her daughter's approval of her personal life. "I like him too."

Emily laughed. "No, I mean it. I like him. He flew up here at a moment's notice, and he was quick to help however he could. First with Danny, and then with the rest of it; I know that Ricky likes him a lot, and it's obvious that he and Rusty get along very well." Emily slanted a look at her mother. "I think what we're all wondering is if you're going to keep him?"

"I will answer that when it is any of yours, or your brothers', business," Sharon stated plainly. "My personal life is not open for discussion, Emily." Her eyes had closed again, but she kept an arm wrapped around her daughter.

"Hm." It was Emily's turn to hum. "Mom. I think that it is." She looked seriously at her. "Dad's around. He seems to be doing better. The two of you were… getting along okay, or it looked like it, anyway."

Her daughter was still fishing. Sharon sighed quietly. "Emily." Her eyes opened and she met her daughter's gaze. "That's over. It was over a very long time ago. Your father and I are divorced now and that's not going to change." Her face softened and she smiled warmly. "He is doing better. I think he's doing very well. He really stepped up for us this time, and it meant a lot. Whatever we were to each other, Emily, or whatever we are to each other now, we're always going to share you and Ricky. We're always going to be connected, and not all of my memories of our marriage are bad. We had some very good years together, and I can hold on to that. I hope that he can too."

"I understand." Emily smiled gently up at her. "I think I just wanted to make sure that neither of you were getting your hopes up. It was good that he was here," she said. "It's been nice having him around, sober and actually trying for once. You know, without the bad jokes, and the grand overtures; just him and us, and nothing in between."

"I know." Sharon knew exactly what she meant. Jack tried too hard when he thought that he had something to hide, or to make up for. Now he was just there, and he was doing what he could to be there for all of them. He was truly trying, and without trying too hard. "It's okay, Emily, to appreciate that. I know that I have. That doesn't mean that I want him back, or that I love Andy any less."

"Good." Emily shrugged. "Because I think he's really good for you," she said of Andy. "You let him take care of you. You would never let dad, largely because you could never trust that he would be around to do it, but it says a lot that you can do that this time."

Sharon couldn't disagree with that. She lay beside her daughter for a moment. "I think he's really good for me too," she admitted. "It's a conversation that we're going to need to have soon."

"It's hard, isn't it?" Emily sighed. "Loving your best friend."

"A little bit," she agreed. "It's scary too. If it doesn't work, there's the chance of losing something infinitely precious."

Mother and daughter looked at one another. Emily smiled as she snuggled closer. "But not loving him is far more terrifying."

"It really is." Sharon gathered her close. "I love you, Emmy bug."

"I love you too, mom." Emily slanted a look at her. "You should really keep him."

"Yes." The corners of her mouth twitched toward a smile. "I'm thinking about doing exactly that."

"Good." She sighed. "Me too."

"Hm." Sharon smiled. "That's my girl."

Emily was quiet for several moments. She glanced at her mother, worried that she had fallen asleep again, but found her simply laying there, lost in thought. "Although I think it has to be said… it just makes it easier to keep them when they're so nice to look at and good in bed too!"

Sharon snorted a laugh. She shoved her daughter away from her and rolled onto her back. "Emily!"

Her daughter laughed. Even when her mother swatted at her hip. "Well, it's true!" She giggled until she snorted. "You don't make an important, expensive purchase like that without trying it out first. My momma taught me better than that."

They were still laughing when the door opened and Andy poked his head inside the room. "What are you two up to?"

They sobered immediately. Twin expressions of wide-eyed innocence looked back at him. "Nothing."

Andy's eyes narrowed. "I believe you," he pointed at Emily. "The other one, not a chance."

Sharon's jaw dropped. She rose up onto her elbows to stare at him. "I could be rethinking that conversation we just had, Emily."

"I believe you." Emily rose from the bed. "Or he just knows you." She winked at Andy and limped toward the door. She still had one foot in a boot brace and the other wrapped. Both ached to be walked on, but it couldn't be helped. The doctors had encouraged her to be mobile. "Good luck," she told Andy as she slipped past him.

"Hm." Sharon's eyes narrowed. "It's a little hard to ground them after twenty-five, and even harder when they're almost thirty." Her voice rose as she called after her daughter, reminding her of that impending milestone.

Andy hooked a thumb in the direction Emily had gone. "Witch's spawn?" He asked, dark eyes sparkling and a crooked grin playing at his lips.

Sharon smirked. "Definitely." She sat up on the bed, her smile softening as he walked toward her. "That girl is all mine, but with an artist's heart. I think she gets that from her father. Jack was always sensitive by nature. He had a creative spirit. He's a very good lawyer, but you should see him paint." She moved to her knees and crawled toward the end of the bed. As his hands moved into her hair, she tipped her head back. "Have you been in the shower?"

"Nope." He hadn't wanted to wake her. He was good on a few hours of sleep. While Sharon was completely gone to the world, he had checked on Rusty, and then Ricky, and finally Provenza. "I was waiting on you to get up." He dropped a light kiss onto her mouth.

"Is that right?" Her lips curved into a smile. "Well, I'm up now."

"Yeah." He studied her face. She was still tired. He thought it might take a few more hours of sleep to completely wipe away the exhaustion of the past few days, but she seemed better. Her eyes sparkled again, and when she smiled, they crinkled at the corners. "You can go ahead," he told her. "I'll wait."

"Hm." She shook her head. "No," she said at length. "I have a better idea." Sharon's arms wound around him. She leaned into him and let her lips touch the tip of his chin. "You can wash my hair and I'll wash your back."

"Best idea I've heard today." Another kiss this one softer, lingering, was placed against her lips before he took a step back. He took one of her hands and waited for her to join him. As she moved into his side, he curled an arm around her. "What were you and Emily talking about?"

"Oh," she shrugged, "just a little bit of girl talk. She only wanted to know what I thought of Sam."

"He seems alright." Andy looked down at her. "Solid. Good head on his shoulders. He said he could transfer back to his company's LA firm if Emily ever wanted to come home."

Sharon sighed. "Well now I just adore him."

"I thought that might do it." Andy chuckled. "Apparently he's got a younger brother." His eyes glittered. "Who is also gay. He's going to give Rusty his number. Not so that they can date," he quickly added, "but so Rusty has someone to talk to who has been out longer." Andy shrugged at her. "So he's got my vote, not that it counts."

Sharon stopped as they stepped into the adjoining bathroom. She turned and looked up at him. Her eyes were soft. Her hand cupped his cheek. "It counts," she said gently. "To me it counts a lot. Emily asked if I was planning to keep you."

His brows lifted. His heart skipped a beat. "Really. What did you tell her?" For just a moment, he wasn't sure that he wanted to know the answer to that, but soft look in her eyes gave him hope. It wasn't a future they had discussed yet, and there was time for that, but still he had hope. He wanted her. For the long haul.

"I told her," she said, voice thick with emotion, "that the idea had occurred to me. How do you feel about hanging around for a while?"

His hands settled at her waist. He drew her forward as his head dipped. "Well, I kind of like hanging around with you, so I don't think it will be a problem." His nose nuzzled her cheek. "You'll need someone to help you take care of Ricky when you bring him home. I understand he's high maintenance."

She chuckled quietly. "Yes he is." She wrapped her arms around him. "I might just end up leaning on you again."

"Tell you what," he said, "how about we just lean on each other and see how it goes."

Her eyes lit with emotion. She turned her face into his neck and hummed quietly. He was solid and warm as he wrapped himself around her. "I think I like that idea," she said. "I think I like it a lot."

There was so much that was still undone. So much left lingering. Ricky was recovering, but he wasn't home yet. The investigation was still open, but it was all but finished. All that was left now was the healing. She was still so very tired, but with the shower beckoning, and the arms of the man she loved wrapped around her, she'd caught her second wind. They would get through this. Another day would come, and he would be waiting for her on the other side of that dawn. He would be there to greet it with her.

Her children were her heart. She had to find her strength on her own. He was her love. Together it gave her courage, enough to know that she would pull them through this, and enough to trust that she wouldn't be doing it alone.

**-TBC-**


	23. Chapter 23

**Home and Hearts Aflame**

**by Kadi  
Rated: T**

**Disclaimer: **I do love this sandbox, but sadly it is not mine.

* * *

**Epilogue**

Sunlight lit the countryside in shades of gold as the afternoon warmed. Summer had come to the high desert of Oregon with its usual bluster. Wild flowers bloomed in open fields, while trees stood in stark green against a blue sky. The nightmares of spring had given way to beauty, although they had not been completely forgotten.

It had only been a few months since the horror that had visited them in the form of Henry Jenks and his revenge. Memories remained, but as the days had passed, one constant had proven itself. Time healed most hurts.

Ricky was released from the hospital after only a week, and had spent another few days recovering on his grandparents' ranch before his mother had packed him up and taken him home with her. He spent much of the rest of the spring and early summer staying with her, something he'd chosen to do after Rusty had introduced him to Dr. Joe. They had both gone to see the psychiatrist, alone and together, and worked through their lingering issues that the attack from Henry Jenks had left behind.

He had gone home for a little bit, enough to check on his place in Palo Alto, and a few projects he was working on before the attack. Rusty had gone with him, finally getting the opportunity to see the place that his brother talked so much about.

The plans for a summer spent in Europe had been put on hold. Where once Ricky had planned to spend the entire summer touring the continent with his brother and cousin, they were now going to spend only a couple of weeks at the end of August.

Emily and Sam were going with them. Both of her feet had healed and she was working on getting back into dancing form again. Her physical therapists in New York were positive that she would fully recovered in time for the fall season. There was also a wedding in the works, now that both of their parents knew of the engagement. There was talk of doing it in the winter, before Emily was needed for the spring season. They were expecting to hear that a date had been chosen soon.

Sharon was still struggling with the idea of her children traveling so far away after almost losing them, but she was coping. They would all be together, she was comforted by that, as much as she was delighted by it. They were coming together, and getting closer. The boys were near to inseparable now. She couldn't be prouder of them.

As for herself, she had sat down with a counselor too. It was necessary so that she could return to work, given the trauma that had been visited upon her family. It was a process, the healing, and everyone was doing it in their own way.

Sharon returned to work after getting Ricky settled at home. She had Rusty to help keep an eye on him, and of course there was Andy.

_Andy_.

She smiled as she thought of him. Sharon turned her face toward the sun and let it warm her skin. The temperatures were leaning toward the nineties today, but it was still much cooler than Los Angeles.

"You look happy."

The voice had come from beside her. Sharon looked over at her companion. "I am." She had an arm looped through one of his. "It's a good day for it, I think."

"That it is." Richard O'Dwyer smiled as he strode through the meadow with his daughter. She had come for that visit she promised, and she'd brought Rusty with her. It wasn't only the boy who had joined her for this trip. He'd asked her, months ago, to bring Andy back when there would be time enough for the family to get to know him. She had done that. She had done more than that. "I'd say it's not every day that your eldest daughter gets engaged, but I don't want to tempt that temper."

She laughed. Yes, it was true. In the past, when it had come to the men in her life, her father's views on it had been the shortest way to a fight between them. "Well, I didn't want to see a grown man cry," Sharon said. "I know how much you like him." She knew without a doubt that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. They wanted to marry quietly, simply, and with very little fuss. Ideally they would do it before Emily's wedding. She wanted to do it at Christmas, when hopefully, the family would be together again. After all, she could think of no better gift for either of them.

"That's true." Richard's eyes sparkled. "I like you better." He shared a look with his girl. He thought that, finally, the hurts of the past were behind them. She was more open than she had been before. "Michael tells me that you found a buyer for the gelding?"

"I did." Sharon smiled brightly. "There's a family serious about showing that has been out to see him a few times." She'd had the gelding brought down to Los Angeles as planned, and while she had enjoyed stabling him, she didn't have the time to devote. As she'd told Andy, she knew he would sell very soon. She had been right. "They've made an offer. I'm going to take it. Andy and I are looking for a house. I won't have to liquidate anything or wait for the condo to sale if we find something we like. The timing is actually very good."

"You told your mother that you liked your high rise?" Richard considered her for a moment. "You're not giving that up?" She had once given up on her dreams and preferences for a man.

"No." Sharon chuckled. "Having Ricky with us all this time just showcased how small the condo is now that I've got three kids." She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear as the breeze picked up. "Andy has two kids, and his daughter has stepsons. We need a little more space. Nothing extravagant, but a yard wouldn't be remiss."

"Let Robert look at the contracts before you sign anything," Richard told her. "Don't rush into it."

Sharon smiled. She suppressed the urge to laugh. "Yes dad." It didn't matter that she had bought a house before, or had a lawyer of her own to handle such matters. He expected her brother to be involved. She was a middle-aged woman of well over fifty, but she would always be sixteen in his eyes.

"Good." Richard nodded. "We'll come to you for Christmas," he said. "I know you want to get married then. You might have to work, so we'll just plan on being in Los Angeles. It might be a nice change. The cold is harder on the old bones than it used to be." They could always spend the New Year in Park City.

"I think that would be wonderful." Sharon would talk to Andy and they would make the arrangements. Christmas was still several months away, there was time enough.

"And you'll tell Ricky to keep an eye on his brother while they're across the pond." Richard shook his head. "No, I'll tell him. He'll just think you're being sentimental. I'll talk to Ricky. You just leave that to me."

"If you think it's necessary." A smile was playing at her lips again. He was genuinely fond of Rusty now. Both of her parents were. It was hard to imagine that he had not always been hers. "I've asked Emily and Sam to keep an eye on both of them. They promised that they would."

"Good." Richard nodded. "That's good. He's still a little uncomfortable with Emily," he commented. "So I'll still talk to Ricky."

"Dad." Sharon shook her head at him. "Okay. But I really believe that the kids will be okay. Ricky will look after Rusty. They're going to have a wonderful time. They'll all be safe."

"It's hard letting them go," he said. "You've got to watch and see what happens, and hope for the best. You don't always get it."

"I know." Her smile softened. "Sometimes you have to try and put them back on track. They don't always thank you for it." She leaned in to his side as they walked. "It's hard watching them struggle. Harder when all you want to do is fix it for them."

"Yes." He grinned crookedly. "Especially when they're stubborn, just like you." Richard arched a brow at his daughter.

"Hm." Sharon hummed. That was only too true. Her children were all as stubborn as she was, all three of them. Just as she had gotten that trait from her father. It didn't always make for wonderful conversations, but those situations always worked themselves out. "Luckily we're never too old to learn the lessons our parents try to teach us."

Richard lay his hand over hers where it rested on his arm. He gave it a gentle pat. "No, we're not. Or to learn when it's okay to let go." They walked along in comfortable silence before Richard added. "So you'll marry him at Christmas? I really like this one, but if you're going to be living together…"

Sharon laughed. The wind caught the sound and carried it across the meadow. Horses were grazing in the distance. She loved the city, with all of its conveniences, but she loved this too. "Yes, dad. I'll marry him at Christmas."

"Good. That's good." Richard was pleased. "Think we'll ever get him on a horse?"

"Not a chance," she said drily. She had tried, many times.

"Oh well." Richard sighed. "We'll keep him anyway. City boy."

She laughed again as they walked. Sharon shook her head at him. He was something else. "It's okay, dad. Rusty likes the horses. You can take him riding."

"Yes." He beamed. "That's my boy."

Sharon felt her heart swell. They claimed him so easily. Loved him as she did. Families were unique and complicated. Hers was no exception to that rule. Home was an idea, and not necessarily a place. Hope burned brightly. It set it aflame. Her heart was filled with it.

**~_FIN_**

* * *

_Thank you all for sticking with this. It's been a wonderful journey. All of your comments and responses have just been so great &amp; very much appreciated. Special thank you to: **deenikn8** the awesome beta; **OldFashionedGrl** for those late night plot discussions &amp; all of the encouragement; **kate04us** for being the most awesome twin on the planet &amp; keeping me going!_


End file.
